


Regicide

by LizzyGal



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Asgard, Blood, Breeding Kink, Butt Slapping, Dark!Loki, Darker Loki, Discussion of killing, Dungeon, Dungeon Sex, F/M, Face Slapping, Fluff and Angst, Hair-pulling, Killing, Knifeplay, Light BDSM, Loki (Marvel) Does What He Wants, Magic, Mildly Dubious Consent, Miscarriage, Nipple Clamps, Oral Sex, Orgasm Denial, Protective Loki (Marvel), Restraints, Rough Sex, Sex Toys, Shameless Smut, Smut, Unprotected Sex, dark themes, more tags to come
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-03
Updated: 2020-08-04
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:48:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 30,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24529405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LizzyGal/pseuds/LizzyGal
Summary: After returning home with his brother Thor, after yet another campaign, Loki's plans to enjoy himself are destroyed when he finds out his wife has done the unthinkable.Naturally, the only thing to be done is lock her in the dungeon until she learns her lesson.Can Loki fix the issues in the marriage? Can Loki forgive you for what you did? Will you spill the beans about your treachery? Can the dungeons be used in a romantic fashion?::Trigger Warnings:  Mentions of miscarriage, deaths of unborn children - not graphic but it is mentioned. And some may consider this mildly dub-con.::
Relationships: Loki (Marvel)/Reader
Comments: 58
Kudos: 201





	1. Chapter 1

Your husband, Loki, had thrown you into the dungeons.

Not the nice one either. 

Not the one he, on occasion, frequented for his various schemes and misdeeds.

You had been thrown into a cage three floors beneath the palace. Down where Odin would have enemies interrogated with all manner of painful looking apparati. Down where the floors and walls were stone. Where the cell walls were some sort of metal that would not break. Where you found yourself, on the fifth day you’d been back in Asgard.

There would be no living with him after this little display.

Your timing had been off.

He’d beaten you home and discovered your lies. Someone had revealed your treachery to him

Oh the lies, there were so many lies.

Lies and lies and lies. 

Lies upon lies.

It was only because he was the better liar, that you’d even been found out. You were the Goddess of Victory after-all. You rarely lost anything at all to your beloved.

Ok, it was reasonable that he be upset.

How could you blame him? If positions had been reversed, you too may have thrown him into the dungeon, on bread and water rations only. Coming down once a day to see if you’d decided to tell the truth.

You refused.

And so, you remained in your cell, not even the least bit repentant. You would stay down here as long as it took. You didn’t care. You could go the distance. You knew what was at stake. You were the incarnate of victory. You would win this, not your husband.

And there he was, as you awoke from your third nap of the day. As you set eyes upon him through the heavy metal bars, heavily warded, to keep you inside and from causing any problems. Such as the big problem you’d caused at the feast. For ages there would be talk about that particular feast.

Upon opening your eyes and seeing the love of your life, other half of your heart and keeper of your soul, you closed them again and made yourself comfortable on the lumpy thin mattress, on the stone floor. 

Dismissively, you shooed at him. “I’m not telling you today darling. Nor tomorrow.”

Boots softly struck the cold hard floor.

Since you had not even deemed it necessary to sit up, in order to respond, Loki fought the urge to have your bedding taken from you. He stepped up to the bars and peered through them. Mouth in a firm line. Teeth clenched, much like they’d been over the past few days at your sheer audacity, your betrayal.

You were his wife. You were his princess, his partner in mischief.

He would have never suspected this sort of deceitfulness from you.

But today, today he would get answers.

Today was the day.

He had a plan. A scheme perhaps. He would get his answers from you, one way or the other.

For days he left you down here. Only visiting you to ask you that one question. Which you refused, sending him storming out, so he would not do something he’d regret.

However, upon having time to properly think. Loki now knew what to do. He had the answers to all of his problems. 

Thankfully he had taken that time to think. Otherwise, he very well could have done something irrational.

“How long did you expect to keep this from me? Did you honestly think that you could keep duplicitousness like this from me, forever? From me? My love?”

Almost bored, you rolled your head to the side. Allowing you to look at him from your prison bed. You lifted your eyebrows. It was the only response you could give the love of your life.

Betrothed as infants. Friends as children and lovers as hormonal adolescents. Your arranged marriage became a love match that no one in the Asgard Court could have predicted. And yet, here you were, still unshakably in love with the God who stood mere feet away, on the other side of bars, trembling with a rage he could just barely contain.

You felt for him.

Truly, honestly, you did.

However, some things were just not about him. 

He was gone so much. So much had happened, so much death and destruction, so much chaos. Battles and wars and everything that came with them. Family and friends dying. How he could have been shocked by what you’d done, was beyond even you. He would have done the same in your position, of that you were certain.

However, he had not been there.

He had not been with you.

Oh you’d sent for him, you’d sent for him so many times and he’d never returned to you. Destroyed by his own grief as well. Off helping Thor. Off doing Odin knew what around the Realms, beyond. 

You could not begrudge him. Nor could you blame him, for how he dealt with the responsibilities and weights placed upon both of you.

When he never answered your summons, you’d done what you had to and never looked back. You were a Goddess after all. You were not some simpering fool incapable of taking control of your own life. You’d done what was needed to be done to survive and save yourself, your sanity, your peace of mind and refused to cow down before him because he was now upset, hurt.

In fact, all you regretted, was being caught.

You should have been more careful, more discreet. Of course, someone would have noticed your extended trips to Midgard when Loki was away. Of course, people would notice the absence. Why wouldn’t there be spies? You were the wife of Loki, he had enemies everywhere. Why wouldn’t one of them follow you to find out what you’d been doing, what you’d been keeping from your husband? Why wouldn’t they share that information with the court? Bring it up at a banquet in the honor of the latest war he and Thor had won.

Honestly, you could not care or remember, you’d been busy. Your other life beckoned, your secrets, your acts of treason.

What you did was high treason.

What you had done was a crime punishable by execution. A punishment you’d gladly take without blinking. 

“Today you will tell me everything. You will tell me the truth.”

A steady dripping of water in the distance highlighted just how serious your situation was, and yet, you had made your bed. So deeply in the underground dungeons. You were too firmly entrenched. You loved this man with every fiber in your being. However, however you could not bend. You would not yield, not on this.

With a snap of his fingers, your cell vanished.

Everything went up in a thick overpowering cloud of greenish black smoke. Curling around you, caressing you, reminding you that even before this, before your secret was exposed, you had not seen your husband in slightly over three hundred days.

That night after the banquet, you and Loki had planned to make up for lost time in a most carnal fashion, as only the two of you could.

Your still wore a formal gown, in shades of black and green, from that ill-fated night.

His magic was not new to you.

It was no shock he would resort to such tactics.

What was more surprising, was when the back of your head hit something hard. Hard enough for you to see stars. All of that smoke made it difficult for you to see, move, breathe, not shockingly so.

Only distantly were you aware that your hands were pulled out, stretched wide and tightly restrained with a rough rope. 

As your head began to clear, your ankles received a similar treatment, only they were shackled down, spread as far apart as was comfortable. Until you were most unceremoniously restrained to a hard surface. 

A look around confirmed it for you.

You knew where you were. You’d been down here with your husband plenty in the past. At first as curious children and then rebellious teenagers, then to partake in more sordid enjoyment as a married couple.

Now though, now he was not so amused.

Now, you were most certainly, most firmly, secured to a rack, flat on your back, at the mercy of Loki. Loki, whom had found out you’d been lying to him for a century. Then thrown you in the dungeon, for your indiscretions. 

Not even bothering to test your bindings, you could feel how strong they were. Instead, you relaxed as best as you could against the hard surface, staring up at the stone ceiling, sighing. 

Loki’s voice was somewhere by your head.

You refused to look up at him.

When his hands came to rest down on the hard surface you were bound to, you still refused to gaze up into his eyes. Not because you’d lose your will and spill all your secrets. Oh Valhalla no.

It was just too hard.

You both had suffered too much already.

It hurt, it physically hurt to see the pain in his eyes. Pain that you could feel in your own body, like a blow, a knife to your chest.

“Where is my son? It goes without saying, that I have a right to know, as his father.”

Nothing, you remained quiet.

“A Prince of Asgard, Grandson of Odin, Nephew of Thor…darling, to sneak him from his home and keep him from his family. It is the ultimate of offenses. Why could you have not just taken a lover?”

That remark made you look into those greenish blue eyes.

Take a lover?

Loki was the only soul to have your heart. First and last person to know your body. He was the only person who could rival you in all things. Taking a lover was laughable. Why would you settle for a piece of fake jewelry, when you could have the real thing?

“He is not Asgardian, kitten,” you purred. Shifting your legs to try and get comfortable, surrounded by all manner of torture implements. “He was born on Midgard. According to their customs, that makes him a Midgardian.”

A pained noise came from your lifelong lover.

“Stab me in the back. It’ll hurt less.”

Upon hearing from the Gossip Lord of Asgard about his son, his son that you secretly birthed down on earth. Loki had been unable to even think straight for those first few days. He’d spoken with the spy. Touched him, seen what had been in the spy’s memories. 

How desperately he’d hoped it was a lovechild.

How he had fervently prayed that your son was not his offspring. That you would not keep such a thing from him. Not after how long you had tried for a child of your own. Every last one of your miscarriages had chipped away at you, at him, at your marriage, at your combined joy. Until grief and loss had become a part of your relationship.

A baby, even with another, would have been promising, a ray of hope.

But seeing you hold the inky haired baby, walking through a park in Migard with a woman who was clearly an Asgardian Lady in Waiting, Loki knew. His son had his hair. His son had his green eyes. He knew just from the way you held the child, that it was his. It was a little Asgardian Prince.

What Loki did not know was why.

Or where his son was. Both of which would soon be remedied. 

As soon as it came out, you grew silent. If Loki had not known better, he would have said you looked terrified.

He’d thrown you in the dungeon, after you refused to say anything afterward.

This had not been how he’d expected to return home, triumphant, with Thor. 

This was most unexpected.

“I am going to assume that you have someone watching our child? Caring for him? Until I am able to go retrieve him and bring him back?”

A scoffing noise came from you. “Of course he is being cared for. You’ll never find him though. Precautions have been taken. He is already in hiding. His caretaker knows that if I do not check in with her once a day, she is to assume I’ve been found out. Send whomever you want to look. They’ll never find him.” 

You sounded so sure, so confident.

If it had been anyone else…Loki’s hands clenched into fists. But he knew you’d be an extraordinary mother. He knew his son was being cared for, looked after, until he could go collect his child. But oh was it hard. Oh how he trembled in fury, that you would do something like this.

“Why?”

Why?

That was not a question you were opposed to answering.

In fact, you would have told him sooner if he’d been home sooner, more frequently. His visits home were sporadic, quick. You’d soon learned it was lonely being a princess.

You looked up into his burning eyes. His hair hung down in a ebony curtain, as he waited for your response.

“It isn’t safe here for him. His life was in danger here. Thor spoke highly of Midgard, so that was where I went and it turns out, your brother was correct. No one has tried to kill him there…yet.”

His face was stony, expressionless. “And you thought…taking my son, my heir, to Midgard, leaving him with some strange woman, was your best option?”

“She isn’t strange.” You sniffed, “She’s artistic. There is a difference Loki.”

He stood and spun away from the rack. Unable to look at you for the moment. Soles of his boots soft on the stone floor, he paced. You would not win this, you would not have victory over him in this, certainly not this.

From with his leathers, he withdrew a dagger.

Such action caught your attention. Although you watched with what could be called mild interest. Loki would not kill you, or maim you. Not when his son was still out there in the wilds of Midgard.

You watched him tap the blade on the flat table you were strapped. 

Tap. Tap. Tap. 

Down the length of the table he tapped his dagger.

Finally, by your feet, he stopped and met your eyes, giving you a chance to speak. 

Silence reigned. 

Therefore, he started at your ankles. Cutting your clothing from you, with sure and steady motions. Sounds of a wickedly sharp knife tearing through your gown filled the room. 

Until finally, he yanked all the fabric free.

Until you found yourself completely nude before your husband.

Weapon still in hand, he looked over your body closely. 

“You do not look any different…” a palm smoothed over your stomach and lower as he frowned, felt for any differences before looking back to you for answers.

You held his gaze.

This had not been fun for you. All the joy and happiness you should have felt at having a child, had been stripped from you. Taken the night your lady in waiting came to you, told you she’d seen one of the maids put something into your evening tea. 

That night you’d left.

You were pregnant for the eighth time. Early in your pregnancy, like always, and in constant fear. So very near the point when you had always miscarried. None of the healers could explain why, no one could help. Nothing ever could be done to stop it from happening. Not the healers or Loki’s mother, and oh how she tried. What were you to do? Both of you fled the palace. Eleven months later, you gave birth to a healthy baby boy.

It did not take Odin to figure out what had happened to your previous other pregnancies.

Afterwards, you’d done everything in your power to return your body back to normal, for fear someone would know, figure it out. No one could ever know. No one could suspect you had given birth to Loki’s heir.

“I have a personal trainer and a chef,” was what you told your beloved.

From the look that earned you in return, you just knew he was not impressed. His cool hand slid down the V of your pelvis and up to your core, through your folds in his inspection. Neither of your eyes breaking apart as two long elegant fingers pierced into you, sliding deep.

It’d been so long.

Since before your son was born.

Loki found your channel snug. An expression of disappointment came when he was unable to tell a difference. You still felt the same. Although it had been ages, it felt like, since he’d sank into your glorious body. Which he had very much been looking forward to upon his return.

When he finally withdrew his hand and sheathed his dagger, he placed a hand near your ankle and leaned on the table. “Darling…you have a choice. You can either tell me where my son is and all of this unpleasantness will be over. Or, I intend to impregnate you again, down here, and then leave you under house-arrest in our chambers. So that I may bear witness to the creation of my loins. Meanwhile searching Midgard from top to bottom for my son. It is entirely up to you.”

You were not impressed with either option. “I am not telling you where he is and he is protected by your mother’s magic. I do not know how much clearer I can make it.”

He sighed deeply.

Your husband walked from your sight for a moment or so, rustled around just out of your vision, making you lift your head to look.

***

Loki watched with a slow burning fire in his gut, his hand falling on a small table as icy water splashed down on you. Cold icy water that fell as if out of the ceiling. It crashed down on your naked flesh ripping a shriek from you.

How could he not tell?

Had he been away from home so long? Had he been away from you for so long, he was unable to tell that your womb had held his son for twelve cycles of the moon?

When he walked back to your side, he held a long glass figurine from your chambers. One that he knew was your favorite during love making, but only after a prolonged time due to its size.

Loki’s plan, in its entirety, was simple and in no particular order.

First, naturally, was to find his son.

Second, without it being said, was to impregnate you again, this time, so he was there and could watch you grow. Deeply he wished to be a father. Deep in his marrow he wanted a flesh and blood part of him and part of you. Loki longed for that connection.

Thirdly, of course, his house needed to be put back in order.

This was simply unacceptable. When had this happened? When had his wife begun to keep these things from him? Why had you not come to him? Your bond felt as strong as ever, how could this have occurred?

Loki intended to make you beg for him, scream for him. He would until the sun burned out.

Loki would make you tell him, where his child was located, on Midgard.

Holding your toy to your lips, he raised an eyebrow.

Being a good sport, you parted your lips and let him slide your toy in, wetting it and you were glad he did. As a few moments later, he padded to the foot of the rack you were strapped to, easing it inside of you. 

“Relax darling, we’ve only just begun. You’re going to want to pace yourself.”

Oh how he just purred those words out, making parts of you just coil despite your circumstance. Wet and cold, strapped down, shifting as your third favorite toy was pushed up into you, a bit earlier than you preferred. You gasped. You panted. You lifted your hips feeling the burn. Pressure came from hard glass spreading you open.

Hissing, you breathed through it, feeling every nerve ending come alive from your toy and the cold, making goosebumps rise, your nipples harden.

Which he had plans for, “Your breasts pet? Are they bigger?”

Continuing to breathe through it, through your nose, you nodded. “A little…I wasn’t able to breast feed. Everything had to…go back to the way it was before…”

That fire burned hotter.

Unable to breast feed his son? Out of fear of being found out? Loki reached over to cup one breast and then the other. Thumbing one hard nipple and then your other with genuine consideration. Reaching into his leathers to pull out a clamp from his personal chambers. Black with a green jewel on it. He clamped it to one of your beautiful nipples, followed by the other. “Why is that my love?” Oh how beautiful they looked against your flesh. Deeply pleasing Loki. The wiggle of your shoulders, as you adjusted to them, made your breasts bounce and his cock twitch. “Tell me. Specifics if you’d be so kind. Why it is unsafe here for my son, in my home, on his homeworld? Details would be fabulous.”

Your wet skin grew cooler in the subterranean dungeon. Why were you still so wet? What had he done with the water? And now, now your nipples burnt. You were so full, stuffed. It was starting to become a distraction.

“Cat got your tongue?” The snarl you gave him as you pulled against your bindings made his pants tighten. “Very well, take some time to think it over. Consider your words. I have nothing but time and according to my wife, our son is in the best of hands.” 

Quickly, with fluid movements, Loki unbelted his pants and watched your head turn to keep an eye on him

With his magic, his clothes could have been gone.

Just as he kept the room colder with his magic. Just as he kept your toy deep within your intimate walls.

But there was a special kind of magic in your watching him undress, one that still gave him immense pleasure. Masculine pride. You still looked at him as if you wanted to eat him alive. At night, he thought of that expression when he went to bed. In his dreams, he saw that look on your face. It was perhaps, one of his absolute favorite thoughts of you.

It was almost as sublime as your mouth around his cock. 

Fingers sank in your hair, as he tilted your head up, pushed his erection against your lips. Seeing his length disappear into your mouth after so long apart, a soft noise came from his lips. “Perfection, always just perfect. Take this time to think hard about what you want to say next.”

The warmth of your mouth. The way you drug your tongue around his tip. How wet you were and that way your soft cheeks brushed against his length, as he pushed himself further in, until he brushed the back of your throat and then pulled back, eased back in and pulled out, groaning loudly when you moaned against him.

“Yes darling, you’re doing glorious.”

Tightly, he gripped your hair, as you hollowed your cheeks, sucked him in deeper. Valiantly, you fought against the feeling of your glass wand as it got pushed up further. Saliva began to smear around your lips, dripping down along your jaw. Your tongue traced along the veins on his shaft. God did you miss this man.

And then, he pulled out with a pop, leaving your mouth open, gaping, gasping for him.

“What about now? Tell me why my son is not safe here, in the palace? Give me a reason. Any reason will do.”

Your cheek rested against the hard surface you were strapped to. Openly, you watched your childhood friend strip his top off. Undo buttons, unfasten ties and shed his top layers, tossing them aside without a care where they wound up. You watched lean muscle ripple under milky flesh hungrily. His erection swayed heavily between the black fabric that clung to his thighs, framing it. Your breasts were heavy and moved with every gasping breath you took.

“Poison…” you managed to breathe out, pull against the ropes that burnt your wrists.

Loki paused, no longer concerned with loosening the pulls on his pants.

“My maid…she witnessed it. It was clear. Smelled like honey. Mixed in with my tea at night. I never tasted it…”

That internal fire raged.

Frigga had taught her younger son well. She’d trained him in the ways of her ancestors. Loki knew every plant, every flower, every possible thing that could be used as a poison in Asgard. He knew what you spoke of. He knew of the little pink flowers on the ivy plant that bloomed up in the mountains. Its extract’s properties were very familiar to him.

Loki connected those dots. Like the two of you would connect the stars in the night sky as adolescents.

“He can’t come back here. I cannot protect him outside of my body. I couldn’t even protect him, or the others, when they were still inside of me.”

Loki began to ask why you had not told him, why would you keep this from him. And then he remembered the letters. He remembered the messages. Every last one you’d written, he’d read. He remembered the grief and sadness from those times. You were strong and capable, you were his rock, his shelter and his foundation. He knew you would be fine. He trusted you. He knew you’d take care of things in Asgard. You were the Goddess of Victory.

He’d made a mistake.

You were strong. You were powerful. You were capable and witty and had figured it out on your own.

He would regret what he had done for the rest of his life.

“Our children were murdered in your womb? You were poisoned. You were poisoned and failed to mention it to me? Even once? You could not have written a note? Sent a messenger? Nothing?” With every word, his voice grew quieter, cooler, practically frigid. As your husband was not much of a yeller. He could kill with silence. If your husband raised his voice, there was nothing to worry about. When Loki was quiet, that was when you kept an eye on him.

You shook your head. 

No, you couldn’t do that, you didn’t know who the poisoner was, “It might have been them…no…”

Before you could shake your head again, or say another word, he went on.

“So naturally, your first solution, was to hide our child in another realm?”

Even as he spoke, it sounded so outrageous.

“He’s safe there. No one has tried to kill him there. He can grow up safely in that realm,” you assured Loki, as you watched him pull his hair back. Muscles in his arms and chest flexing, moving smoothly with each movement.

Fear dripped from nearly every word.

Unease too.

If you would have been angry, it would have been better. Anger, Loki could deal with far easier. It was your despair that brought him to his knees.

Someone had done this to you and when he was done with you, he’d find them.

You’d been punished enough. Loki had no intention of breaking you. He was determined to put you back together, acquire his son and find the serpent in question. His revenge would be swift and merciless. First though was his princess. He knew just what his goddess needed.

Later he would hold you, caress you and whisper sweet little nothings in your ear, while you held the child you both created. Later he could soothe and comfort. 

Building required fire and iron, shattering of foundations, it was messy and hard and volatile. Beneath the very soil under his feet was rock and liquid fire, creation was not peaceful or gentle. 

Neither, however, was your determination in keeping his son from his rightful home.

Loki sighed. 

“My heart…you cannot honestly expect me, to allow our son, to grow up on Midgard.”

“It’s safer for him there,” was your response.

Pained, Loki gestured and that blackish green cloud of smoke rushed down upon you, curled around you, folded into you and you were then gone. Wrapped up in greenish ashy clouds that made your skin tingle and heart pound.

***

Chains.

You dropped from chains by your wrists.

A shriek of either outrage or shock, perhaps both, came from you at the suddenness of it. Your body snapped, jerked and swung from chains that dangled from the ceiling. Your toes not touching the floor even if you reached.

Your glass phallus remained deeply buried within you. Although, with your jerking, you could feel a slippery wetness smear along the inside of your thighs. 

Stretching out as much as you could, you reached for the floor with your toes, with no luck.

“Do not get me wrong. I deeply applaud your instincts.” Loki informed you, causing you to lift your head. Search him out and find him in the space full of all manner of terrifying devices, such things that you were finally getting a better look at. The rack in the center of the room. Cages hung from the ceiling. Implements of pain up on the walls and spread out on tables. In the corner was a large smooth standing coffin and near you, was a chair with spikes, plus over by the wall were a series of stocks.

Deeply you breathed, your breasts hiking up, burning hot from the pinch of your nipples, aching from the green jewels clamped to them. Your husband’s royal colors.

“You have done well in protecting him while I was away.” Your lover purred, lifting something up from a table and then turning to you. Greenish eyes roamed over you, appraisingly. “As I have returned for the foreseeable future…”

Your head shook, practically of its own accord by then.

Methodically, he approached, something dark in his hand that you could not quite make out. A few suspicions went through your head. Hopeful little seeds. After all your time apart, after everything that had happened, you craved what only Loki could give you. Your toes curled in anticipation.

The sight of him was enough to take your breath away.

Smooth creamy skin poured into dark pants that fit him like a glove. Here and there, a little scar, a little mark from various fights and battles. You’d mapped him like a cartographer would Asgard. With his hair pulled back, the true sharpness of his face was evident, so harsh and piercing. And those cold glittering eyes. You could easily watch him for ages.

Chains held you off the stone floor and eye level to Loki, and for the first time since that fateful night, you found yourself dreadfully close. Close enough for his nose to brush yours. Close enough that you felt his breath on your flesh, his body skim yours, his erection push against your bare thigh.

“Tell me,” he whispered softly, eyes imploring your own, making your chest tighten.

It was then that your eyes too began to burn. Unable to speak without falling to pieces, you shook your head once more. A tear, no, two, escaped, sliding down your cheek.

You blinked and your prince pressed his lips to the wet tears, capturing them. And then your mouth. Kissing you with the salt of your tears still fresh. Plundering your mouth. Matching your lips to his, teeth nibbling, noses brushing, breath mingling, tongues reclaiming until you felt him push the glass phallus. It broke your moment, distracted you so the God of Mischief could reach up to wrap cloth around your eyes.

Not before he pressed his lips to your forehead.

Not before you saw the leather object shoved in his waistband. A handle hidden beneath the dark clothing. Leather straps that were braided tightly, knotted at the end with beads on each strand. 

“Don’t go easy on me, my love,” you told him.

A purr came in response that curled around you almost decadently. The cloth of the blindfold was soft, and rested gently over your eyes. With the utmost care, Loki tied it snug behind your head. Softly running his fingers through your hair. Pressed his lips to your nose, your lips once more, stealing one last kiss from you.

His princess would not bend on this, hard and unyielding as the metal Uru, found only in stars and used to make his brother’s hammer. Even the metal that made up Mjolnir was capable of being made soft, weakening under the right about of heat. Anything could be reforged. If one knew how.

For as long as it took, he would forge something new from the pieces of what he’d returned home to. Forge something new from old, something that would be stronger for both of you and Asgard’s newest prince.

“I would not dream of it. Remember my sweet…” soft footsteps filled your ears, fingertips traced over your waist as he moved behind you. A distinctive sound of leather snapping on the hard floor made you inhale deeply, luxuriating at what awaited you. “…begging is the only thing that will help you now.”

Loki knew just how to make his princess burn.


	2. Chapter 2

Loki could remember his mother’s words vividly, before he went down into the dungeon for what would be the last time, having no intention of leaving you another night, or to leave once more without knowing where his child was located.

_Do not be reckless, my son. You must consider something before you go down there._

_And what is that Mother?_

_I have seen it. You will find the answers you seek. What I cannot see, my son, is after. I do not know if you remain husband and wife. You must ask yourself before you go down there. Do you wish to remain whole? You can fix something that is cracked, but not something in pieces Loki._

Loki indeed wished to remain married.

Loki enjoyed being married. Loki was quite fond of having something that was entirely just his and now that he knew there was a product of that union, he was more pleased, as would be any soul who deeply valued connection.

So yes, Loki would heed his mother’s words.

Loki would proceed with caution.

Loki cracked his cat-o-nine-tail against your back, hard enough to make your entire body sway. Your spine curved and you took in a deep breath through clenched teeth, at the sharp pains from each braided leather strap, when it made contact with your skin. Each little knot was a sting that burnt into something hot, throbbing, considerably less painful as time passed. Slowly coiling, winding, building.

Not allowing you time to feel that blissful burn, Loki hit you once more with the multi-tailed implement. Not allowing your body a chance to relax before delivering more. An angry gasp came from you. Your hands tightened around your chain bindings. A cold sweat broke out over your boiling form. 

While there was no blood, yet. Red marks, yes. Bruises would come most certainly. 

Secure in the knowledge that he was very near your peak with the whip, he tempered himself and cracked it loudly on the floor, snapping it soundly. Making it echo through the stone room.

Your body flinched at that sound but when no pain came, you let out a relieved breath.

Even if you wouldn’t tell him where his son was, you had no qualms about speaking of the child. So as Loki padded around behind you, taking in his work. He softly inquired, “Darling, what did you name our son?”

Handle of the leather tool gripped tightly in one hand. His other reached out to touch your burning back, ripping out a breath from you.

“Vali.”

Pausing for a second, Loki rolled that name around, “You remembered?”

“Of course I remembered. How could I forget? Or did you think I’d give him a Midgardian name?” Even saying those words in your snarky little way, fired through Loki, as you knew it would. Thus making the next crack from the whip, between your shoulders, less of a surprise and more of a satisfying burn. “Come on, my love. Did you expect me to name your heir Dale? Kyle? Tony?”

Such insolence from someone chained up in the lower dungeons. 

It could have only come from you.

It made his sinful mouth curl, his eyes glitter. It was such a shame he’d blindfolded you. This, however, was not playtime. It was important. It was of the utmost importance.

Loki found himself dragging the blunt handle of his instrument across the small of your back. Tapping the leather edge several times, very aware the act made your body tense. “Tell me about my son, my love.”

He watched your body stretch out, your toes reach for the floor to no avail.

When you thought too long about the question, that whip cracked loudly on the floor again, making you jump, or jump as much as possible in your current predicament. Hanging from your wrists by several chains of different sizes, you noticed, made things very difficult. 

“He’s a baby Loki. His days consist of eating, wiggling about, being changed and bathed.”

“And his birth?”

“Head first,” was your response.

To which Loki nodded, very well, if you wished to take that tone, he would take it right out of you. Tossing aside his favorite whip for you for later, he most unceremoniously reached between your legs to withdraw the glass phallus. Considering how aroused you were with evidence of it smeared along your thighs, he pulled the toy out quickly, with one firm pull and then flung it. 

You flinched when you heard the glass shatter against a wall.

The jeweled clamps on your nipples were both removed, in a similarly quick fashion.

Loss of it all was instantly immediate. 

Your thighs clenched without that toy filling you. Its absence was so obvious. As for your breasts. Oh how your nipples ached, throbbed, burnt. The dungeons cold air was almost painful on the hardened tips of your breasts.

Loki was close. 

You could hear his breathing, smell that rich spicy smell of his oils and soaps. Yet you never expected him to lift your leg and all but impale you, on his length. Even in your state, so aroused and heightened, it was a surprise and he was no mere mortal. It had been so dreadfully long since you’d last taken your husband. A shout escaped from you.

“It has been a while,” he remarked with a groan.

Nothing ever felt quite as good as you, not since that first time when he took your maidenhead and not now. One hand firmly held your thigh and the other slid down low.

“Tell me…” hissed your husband, taking great care to slam across that spongy part of you, deep within, on every angry thrust in and withdrawal from your body.

Something was off.

Something wasn’t right.

It took a second for you to put your finger on it. 

It took a brief moment for the initial surprise of his manhood spearing through you so suddenly to pass, for your body to get reacquainted with your lover. It was not too long. Your walls clenched him so tightly, you could hear Loki grunt in effort to move within them, complete that natural urge to rut and you in turn moved your hips. Your other leg wrapped around him. Spreading yourself wider, to make it easier for your beloved to lay claim to your body and claim he did, ruthlessly, with every inch he went as deep as both your bodies would allow. You felt every last bit, every vein on his glorious shaft, the tip of his head as he hit your walls, rubbed your most tender spot deep within. Pushing you further and further…but not quite…it was a slow, steady ascent that just kept going and going and going nowhere. Until you moved, shifted and felt fingers, a palm over you.

Loki took his hand from your hip, to yank off your blindfold and then get a far superior hold of you, allowing him to better fuck you.

And he did so, ruthlessly, powerfully slamming into you repeatedly. Claiming your body with the ferocity of a deity, just as you loved. Ripping out cries, shrieks, moans and an outraged noise when you looked down to see why you weren’t closer, much closer, as close as Loki to blissful shattering completion.

His hand covered your clit.

His hand kept you from your own orgasm.

“Oh you horrible, vile, incomprehensible toad of a…”

Loki did not care. He unraveled. He came, perhaps considerably quicker than he would have preferred. Still it had been forever since he’d been in a woman, that woman being you, and he should have been celebrated for lasting as long as he did, in his honest opinion. 

Clenching his teeth and pumping more, spewing what felt like everything in his sac, in hot violent expulsions from his own form. He emptied himself into you with a hoarse groan. Over three hundred days worth of cum, into you, until his cock was nothing but white hot fire, till his skin was damp with sweat and his breath a smidge taken.

Smoothly, Loki withdrew from your body and watched with a smirk, as you thrashed, glared, called him every name under the stars, as his cum began to succumb to gravity.

Licking his lips, he avoided your foot just narrowly. “My son? Princess?”

It had been over three hundred days for you as well, and he’d done that? Oh there would be absolutely no living with him now. “Don’t Princess me! I’ll take a sword to your manhood myself! When I get…”

Deeply, Loki sighed, throwing up his hand before you could finish.

Your words were gone, taken away by that blackish green cloud, ripped from your lips and replaced with a surprised noise, a shocked noise.

You weren’t hanging from the ceiling anymore.

All the chains were gone. 

Well, not gone, over on the other side of the room. On your new side of the room, you were on your knees, ankles shackled to the floor. It was such an immediate and sudden change, you blinked, not quite remembering what scathing thing was on the tip of your tongue, as his magic was making your head foggy.

And then your husband was there, standing before you, painfully erect member in one hand. “Open your lips my love. If you still have nothing to share with me, we shall put that mouth to good use. Clean me with that skilled tongue of yours. You know how I like it.”

Through narrowly slitted eyes, you made an obscene gesture with your hands.

“Oh, I intend to darling, don’t you worry. We’ll get to that soon enough.” That gesture though, Loki wasn’t about to tolerate profanity along with treachery. It could either be one or the other, and he currently was tackling the treachery. 

Murderous, that was what your expression became to his absolute pleasure. 

Against your will, you felt your arms willed back, hints of something smoky and dark curled over your skin. Till your wrists were tightly pulled down, pulling your shoulders back, lifting your chest.

“Much better…” your husband cooed, right before he wrapped those fingers around a tender nipple. Still so achingly sore from the clamps. Pain was immediate from his merciless pinch.

No sooner had your mouth opened in a cry, did his crown slip in, salty and slimy from your combined arousals and his ejaculate. Loki stepped closer, till the only room you had to move was an incredibly small bit of space. And that was either up, or down, on his erection.

“All of this can end my sweet…tell me where my son is. All of this will be gone. We’ll be up in our chambers. A snap of my fingers is all it will take. It is entirely up to you. My son or my cock. Either is acceptable to me.”

You were going to bespell him. Of that, you were certain. Not to kill him. Oh no, you loved him dearly and he had yet to give you a little princess you so deeply wanted, but just enough to make him incredibly uncomfortable for a while. Just so he would learn his lesson. Writhe around the floor a little bit. Some cramping, vomiting, maybe even a few hallucinations. Oh you had just the thing for Loki.

Loki was not for one second fooled.

You may have been sucking him clean, hard enough to make his teeth clench, dragging your tongue all over his cock in that way you knew for a fact made his toes curl, played with the crown of his head with your tongue and teeth just fucking perfectly. Loki watched you. You held Loki’s green gaze with your own.

“What wicked little things are you thinking my queen? It looks as if you’re envisioning something quite obscene.”

At that, you took him deeper, deep enough to border on mild discomfort for you.

When he grunted, you could have jumped for joy.

In retaliation, and how could he not, Loki reached down to take both your breasts in his hands. Twisting your pulsing nipples, eliciting a scream from you, allowing him to sink further in and relish the groan that came from deep within you.

Stopping you with fingers sliding through your hair, you were treated to the feel of him so full in your mouth, alive. 

How you longed for this while he was away.

You closed your eyes so you could savor this, everything about the moment, the feelings and smells and sight and presence. How cold the stones were beneath your shins, how snug the metal was around your ankles. How your nipples ached and burnt, the feel of your combined fluids sliding down your thigh and how empty you were, how much you wanted him to take you hard and let you come.

As he pulled your mouth off, you watched a string of your saliva stretch and finally break as he stepped away.

You gaped and breathed deeply, eyes eventually travelling up, away from the heavy erection that hung between his legs.

“Do you intend to keep our son on Midgard for the entirety of his youth?”

Honestly, you answered, perhaps a bit breathless. “I’m…unsure…”

Sensing a sliver of weakness, Loki pressed, “He will not age like the other children. He will not be like the other children, it will be…glaringly obvious. How will you explain it?”

You hadn’t even thought that far ahead. Your number one concern, had been keeping your unborn prince or princess safe in your womb. Once born, your number one priority, had been to keep them safe and hidden away. School? Childhood? You hadn’t even thought of that, or how different they would be from Midgardian children.

“Here, he will be like the other children.”

You shook your head.

“He’ll have the best tutors in all of Asgard.”

You shook your head still.

“He could play out in the gardens like we did, he’ll have his grandfather teach him our history and at night, we can put him to bed in the royal cradle in which I slept, enchanted by my mother.”

All of that sounded so wonderful. It sounded like everything you wanted for your son, your prince. It was the happy and carefree life of an Asgardian child brought up at court. Court, where it was not safe for your child, Loki’s child. Your head shook on its own, “No. I will not send him to be with our ancestors. He is safe where he is.”

“He is alone where he is,” Loki countered, walking behind you, out of sight. “Away from his loving family.”

Your shoulders were beginning to become sore. Yet you refused to complain, or show a hint of weakness. Discreetly, you tried to test the bindings. 

All you managed to do, was make a soft delicate snow fall from the ceiling.

You rolled your eyes.

Loki’s magic.

“There is no one more powerful than my father. Do you doubt my ability to keep my son safe? My father’s ability to protect his own grandson?”

Quietly, softly, feeling that familiar feeling of pain deep within you, your voice came out. “We were unable to protect the others. We lost so many Loki…I cannot risk the ones that could survive.”

Something broke, shattered, was destroyed most soundly somewhere behind you, making you flinch and look, more than a little curious. What on earth could he have broken in a dungeon?

Your answer came, when you saw a massive gaping hole in the stone wall.

Boulder sized rocks down to smaller sizes were scattered about, along with dirt, bits of iron and wood. Wisps of black and green swirled around the damage. Not that you said a word. You could understand that rage, that feeling of helplessness. You’d struggled with it yourself. Your voice was soft. “That is why he cannot come back. It is not that I do not want him to return. I would love for him to grow up here, spend his childhood as we did. There is nothing that I would want more. It is just not possible.”

Loki considered your words. He really did.

However, he refused to accept them and after one last look at the result of his temper, still smoldering…crumbling, he squatted down behind you. Fingers sank in your hair to pull your head back roughly, just that side of painful. His voice vicious in your ear, “You never gave me a chance to keep him safe.”

Gently, you reminded him, “You never returned home. I sent so many letters. I begged.”

Just as viciously, he let go of you. Had you not been bound to the floor, you would have fallen. Your voice was still gentle, kind, soothing. You did not blame him. Not one bit. You understood how the kingdom ruled. You knew he would be gone for extended periods and you accepted that fact. “How can you possibly combat a threat that we never even knew existed. We assumed the healers were correct, that the problem was with me. I never even fathomed it could have been poison and I ingested it. For now, my love, it is just best this way.”

You were not at all surprised when you felt a cool hand clasp over your forehead. 

Fortunately, you were prepared.

***

Loki did not want to resort to this. 

Unfortunately, he could not help himself. He was a desperate, rage driven being that perhaps was not opposed to tricks, schemes and deception. Putting his palm against your forehead, to search through your memories for what he sought, as if flipping through a book, was something that he avoided with you.

He’d stopped, after what you both thought had been your second miscarriage.

Now, now that he knew, he wished he would have done this sooner. He wished he hadn’t been such a coward. Gone were all the vestiges of grief and despair. You even leaned back against him, to allow him to search your memories.

As his mother had taught him, he fought through the initial barrage of emotions.

Anger. Frustration. Concern. Fear. Pride. Love. Devotion. Arousal.

Loki searched, his own eyes closed as he searched…

…finding a memory, a recent one, you and the lady in waiting in a bedroom, a big bedroom in a home somewhere on Midgard…

_You held his infant son in your arms…_

_You fed the baby with a bottle, smoothing your fingers over the soft inky hair of his sleeping son._

_“I’m unsure how long I’ll be, but, the same rules apply. If I do not send word to you every night, assume the worst. Do as we discussed. I’ll catch up to you when it is safe.”_

_“Yes my princess, of course, we’ll be safe. I know what to do…”_

No, not that one…

Loki searched back further, looking for something he could use, something helpful…

And…perhaps, he stopped, focused…

Both of you were in a little crappy diner somewhere, you were heavily pregnant and both of you were wet, obviously midway through a journey of some kind…

_”Ok,” your Lady quietly whispered, “Here is what I’ll do…”_

_Your hand went up to silence her. “Don’t tell me.”_

_This made the young woman pause._

_You speared something disgusting looking, soaked in brown gravy, with a fork. “Don’t tell me anything. If I am found out and someone gets in my head…they’ll hear our plan. Once I have Loki’s son, his safety is paramount above my own. I trust you to keep him safe. Even I cannot know your plan.”_

_Frowning, the young Asgardian thought before spearing what Loki knew were pancakes, a whole stack of them._

_“How will you find us?”_

_Eating the foul looking substance, you chewed and were quiet for a few moments._

_Finally, you raised your hand._

_Your young maiden was listening._

_“Do not say anything…simply nod if you understand. Ok?”_

_Understanding how dire your situation was, she nodded and not just because her mouth was full of blueberry pancakes. “You will go to that place, the one which reminds you of Asgard that time you became intoxicated. I shall give you money and you will prepare a place. We both know what you prefer, so it should not be too difficult for me to find you and my son.”_

With a hiss, Loki yanked his hand from your head. 

“Oh, you’re a deceitful bitch!”

He was not wrong, it was a fair assessment.

Nor were you about to allow him to speak to you in such a manner, not without a rebuttal. “And you’re a two-faced snake! You left me here! You left me in this vipers den full of your enemies! Did you think, your enemies would wait until you returned, to exact their revenge? Do you think if I bring them here, that anything would be different the next time you leave!”

The bindings holding you to the floor released. 

In your rage, you almost fell.

As it was, you stumbled forward and onto your hands and knees. Not for long. No, you climbed up as quickly as you could manage, to look up at your husband, who was just as irate as you.

A few strands of such black hair had escaped the tie. “You’ve never given me a chance!”

No mere Asgardian woman, you shouted right back, a goddess in your own right. “You were never here! You never allowed me the chance to tell you! What would you have me do? Write it in the stars!”

As hints of greenish smoke began to tickle your nose. You hit your husband.

You slapped him as hard as you could, putting into it all of your rage and anger and terror and frustration. You hit him so hard, his head snapped to the side. You hit him so hard, your hand hurt.

“What would you have me do,” you shouted at him. “Tell me! What should I have done!”

Again, that smoke began to curl around you. You tried to run, you tried to move, but it tightened around you like a vice, ripping you back, pulling you away. You did your best to fight but found yourself coughing, choking on it and then, you were no longer standing…

…you were on your feet, bent over, head and hands pinned beneath wood so strong, even you could not get free.

You screamed.

You screamed at Loki. You screamed at Asgard. You screamed at the court and whomever had pushed you to this place. You screamed for everything taken from you and done to you. You screamed just to scream, at the unfairness of it all.

You screamed at the audacity of your husband, to put you in stocks.

“Tell me,” Loki yelled right back.

You stopped screaming, and not just to test the strength of the stocks that held you. 

“Tell me…or I’ll start spilling blood.”

This made you look up.

“You could not have possibly thought, that I would allow this, to go unpunished? I will find the poisoner and whomever has been aiding him. Along with every last one of my enemies, those who wish me ill, even my detractors. I’ll paint these halls in their blood!” Loki told you in no uncertain terms. “I will slaughter anyone who even looks at me unkindly. I will rain down ice upon this land, until my name is too feared to even be spoken. My love, I will destroy anyone who was even aware of what was done to us.”

As best as you could, you watched him walk out of your sight.

You could hear him walk somewhere behind you.

And then, you knew exactly where he was, when his hand rained down on your ass, hard enough to echo through the chamber and make you shriek. 

Again and again, he brought down his hand onto your ass, eight times in total.

Eight cycles of the moon, because that was the age of your son.

Eight, open palmed blows to your cheek, that wound up with your ass burning. Halfway through, you screamed out in rage and when it stopped, Loki buried himself deep within your intimate walls. Ripping a guttural throaty groan from you. While your hindquarters may have been ablaze, the insides of your thighs had never been slicker.

You were so warm and copiously wet and squeezing the ever-loving hell out of him. 

Loki could have sworn upon entering you, you clenched around him in climax. 

Although it was hard to tell at first, as you screamed his name out hatefully, along with a few profanities. Quickly, it became a certainty that you had indeed experienced a particularly powerful orgasm. Loki felt your hips buck up against his thighs, as your body tightened in a spasm. As your cunt squeezed him so tightly, he was nearly pushed out. The corners of his lips went up and he began to force his way in, power his cock through you as you unraveled. Spurring you on further and then, reaching forward, to perhaps a bit maliciously, pinch a nipple on one of your shaking breasts. Turning your already guttural scream into something primal.

Far from unaffected himself. By your slippery channel that clenched him so powerfully, the low debauched noises that came from your lips as you unwound from your orgasm, the sight of your abused nipples swaying with every thrust into you. After so long away. It was too much. Even the sounds of your shoulders hitting the stocks, with every movement forward, made his balls tighten.

Soft profanities came from your mouth in a chant. “Fuck…fuck…fuck…fuck…” 

Sensitive from the orgasm that had practically taken your head off, if Loki hadn’t been holding you up, you would have fallen to your knees. Every pass of his cock through you, over that sensitive spongy spot within your core, lit you up. Your clit pressed painfully against his slippery thigh.

Loki climaxed, shouting your name, fingers digging deeply into your waist, violently ejaculating and filling you with his seed. Pushing himself in as deeply as he could go, so aroused by the thought of getting you with child, he spilled even more, nestled deeply.

You closed your eyes. Hoping he had just given you a princess with his raven hair, your eyes, who would learn his mother’s magic and sit on Odin’s lap hearing her history.

A thought came to his mind.

Whether it was from the clearing of everything brought on by his pleasure. Or, if his mother had a part. Loki did not know, nor did he care. A thought that would surely be acceptable came to his mind. 

Upon pulling free from your snatch, a soft noise came from you and was followed by a gush of your own arousal, combined with his thick white cum. 

Completely unacceptable.

You felt a stool get pushed under your abdomen, easily lifting your feet from the floor, angling your ass up above your shoulders. For just a moment, you were confused as to what Loki was doing, where had that stool come from? Until fingers pushed the thick wet evidence of your union that you felt drain, back in. A cool glass object filled you, pulling a surprised noise from you. Plugging your pussy. Keeping both Loki’s seed as well as your juices, in.

Clearly the stool had come from wherever the glass toy had come from.

Panting, head and hands pinned by the stock, your legs and feet dangling, you could go nowhere. All you could do was wait. Wait and shift around. That glass object felt rather large between your legs and was wedged in quite securely.

When Loki made his way around to face you, he’d stuffed himself back in his breeches, yet left them untied. Strands of inky hair were loose from where it was tied back. A sheen of sweat covered his exposed milky flesh, and you were glad he was as affected as you. There was a flush of color around his chest, up his neck into his cheeks.

In a deeply depraved manner, he licked his fingers.

As if asking what you’d like for dinner, he spoke, “Darling…I have come up with a solution. A compromise to our stalemate.” Then, curling his tongue around three long fingers, he knelt down to put himself eye level with you.

“Oh do tell…” was all you could manage, as you watched the love of your life clean his fingers.

Royal nectar, that was what Loki teasingly referred to it, as he licked every trace from his fingers, before resting his elbows on his thighs. He kissed you quickly, soundly. Giving you a taste of you combined, before observing you as only he could, eyes taking everything in. You might as well have been in bed together chatting. “What if…our son stays in Asgard while I am in Asgard? When I am home, he is home? When I am away, you may return to Midgard with our son, along with several royal attendants and guards of our choosing. Until he is of schooling age. How does that sound, my princess?”

Your eyes narrowed considerably.

“Do not be so wary, my love. It is only till he is old enough to start his royal education. Then, of course, we’ll renegotiate these terms. Granted by that point, I fully intend on having cleansed the court of all my enemies.”

It was all you could do to be civil. “Terms? Darling?” Considering where you found yourself. “I can’t help but feel…like I am at a disadvantage.”

Your husband smirked, a slight tug of his mouth.

Reaching forward, he traced his thumb over your jawline softly, caressingly. “Hardly. Considering I have no clue where my son is. You, my dear, have the high ground.”

Oh, right, you’d forgotten about that little cooing wiggling fact.

“All I ask…is while you’re on Midgard, I know where you are, so that I may visit. To be sure all is well in paradise. When I return to Asgard, you will return with our son.”

You looked at him, with what would could have been construed as a dubious sort of expression. “And how can I know, that you won’t in some way trick me, once I take you to Vali? Hmmm?”

A twinkle sparked in the green depths of his gaze.

You knew whatever came from his mouth would be worth this all. 

“Because when you leave this dungeon, it will be with an incredibly high possibility, that you’ll be carrying the next royal child of Asgard. I think it is becoming quite obvious, that you will always have me at a disadvantage.”

Naturally, you hesitated, unsure of it all.

“You have my word, I swear it, on our son. Do you not believe me?”

How could you not? You could honestly say, that you knew in your heart, Loki would do anything, just as you had, to keep your son safe. And if Vali was safe with you, he’d be even safer with Loki too. Could you risk it though? Could you bring him back with you to Asgard? 

In that moment, you knew, Loki would without question do anything for his son. 

Still, it wasn’t Loki that you were concerned about. It was everyone else. Taking your son away from the danger had seemed the best option. Even with Loki, could you risk it?

“Darling…”

You looked down at the stones and confessed. “It is more than just you. I cannot protect him here. I do not know who the poisoner is, or who else would try to harm him.”

Loki sighed deeply. Oh his dear beloved princess, such a protective mother to his child. He could not have asked for a better partner, a better goddess, a better queen. 

Reaching out, he curled a finger under your chin to make you look him in the eye. 

If you only knew, that he had his father’s trusted royal guards, looking for the very ones you feared. Perhaps he’d tell you? Later though, he’d share that news later. He wanted your compliance without that promise. He wanted you to agree, based on your trust in him. 

“Allow me to step in. You’ve done a magnificent job so far. Would you not like to just rest for a bit? Take time to just be with our son? Allow me to take care of you and our son. Give this to me.”

How could you say no? How could you deny him?

You knew he had you.

You’d give in.

Your eyes began to burn and water.

“I can’t tell you where Vali is…I’ll have to show you. I’ll have to take you to Midgard.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :::Hello friendly readers! So, this gained an extra chapter and epilogue, because I couldn't fit everything in one more chapter that I wanted. It seems I have a problem, lol. Thank you for reading and your wonderful comments!:::

Loki found your secretly having his child, and hiding the infant away on Midgard, to be an act of utter betrayal.

This however, this was far worse.

This was just irritating.

There, in his black suit that you were growing fonder of by the moment, Loki found himself in the utter depths of hell. 

Wedged in an elevator, in a casino, in the city of Las Vegas, during what appeared to be some sort of convention. He’d been giving you a significant amount of side-eye since stepping into the small box, continuing as he watched you press the button for one of the middle floors.

Not even the top luxury rooms, a regular room.

He could not even begin to stop the rolling of his eyes, or the breath he blew out, in thinly veiled contempt.

Having none of it yourself, you continued to look forward, at a gaggle of seniors who were not even a fraction of your age. Standing in various states of intoxication and talking excitedly, about the buffet and quarter slots.

“Oh yes darling. Go on. Take that tone,” you encouraged.

Nothing, he said nothing in response. Well aware that the white and grey haired humans, were openly watching. 

It wasn’t enough of an indignity that his child had to be hidden on Earth, Thor’s beloved realm, but in this most dreadful city, this one. This was the one you picked. Some things were indeed worse than death.

Oh you would have to suffer for this too. 

Loki would think up something just for you, just for this specific misdeed.

When the elevator dinged and came to a stop, Loki followed you out, more than aware of all the stares the two of you were getting from the elderly. Only his mission to acquire his son kept him focused. 

Once he held his son in his hands, he would return to Asgard with you, tie you to something and ensure that you had learned your lesson. Afterwards, he would focus on his purge of the court. Loki had a whole plan worked out.

“Really? Of all the cities? In all of this forsaken realm? You pick this one? If I did not know any better, I would say you were trying to punish me.”

Dead in your tracks, you stopped and spun around. Wearing nothing more than a pair of jeans and a black button up blouse. You raised a hand to point at him, looking up since he was one of the few people who was taller than you. “Not everything I do is centered around how it makes you feel, kitten. I know that may be frightening for you…”

Loki stepped closer, not allowing a bit of space between your bodies, as the elevator doors closed and it rose.

“Watch your tongue. You may be a Princess of Asgard, but you are my wife. You will speak to me reverently. Or, I will put you on your knees and remind you of your expected duty.”

Was there anything more perfect?

He really did know how to make you feel every inch a goddess. 

Key card in hand, you placed your hands on your hips, absolutely refusing to look away in the colorful hallway. Being decorated just this side of over the top. You hardly noticed the group of young women approach the elevators. Your focus completely on your once child-groom. 

“Put me on my knees. Be sure to pull my hair, slap me, make me call you ‘My King.’ Cover me with your seed and make me scream for mercy.”

Thor frequently questioned Loki, how he could have aligned himself to just one woman, so early in life.

If only Thor understood. Thor was still looking for that ray of light, one who would make his world turn. Loki, on the other hand, had already found the new moon for his dark night.

Sadly, it was the group of young women, that silenced Loki. What he had to say to you, was, in no way fit for public ears. But it was a very encouraging reaction, to your interpretation of your expected duty. A good number of eyes watched, waited, wanted to see where all that was going to go. Even you waited, until he finally warned you, in no uncertain terms. “Take me to my son. Or you will follow me around on hand and knee wearing no more than a green collar.” And while Loki would have loved nothing more than to see such a thing, it would have to be in the privacy of his chambers. 

Loki was nothing if not greedy.

Intrigued, you clicked your tongue and then spun on your heel, setting off towards the hallway of brightly colored doors. 

Not at all bothered by the open stares from the group of young Midgardian women. Loki had the same effect on Asgardian women and some men. It was something of a gift. Plus, you knew what a handful your husband was, he could be downright exhausting. You would gladly send him off for a sleepover with the horde of young Earth women. Secure in the knowledge, that after an hour or so, they’d send him right back to you.

Loki wasn’t about to admit it, but he had to hurry to catch up with you.

Door after door, in the brightly decorated hallway passed and right before he was about to speak, you hooked a left and he understood why you picked Las Vegas. He understood why you picked the middle of the hotel, and why a casino.

Loki would recognize his mother’s magic anywhere.

Powerful spells somewhere ahead made his skin itch. It wasn’t something that the humans would pick up on. But an Asgardian would. The chaos of the casino helped cover it up and all the people around helped dissipate it, to the point Loki wasn’t entirely sure what room was yours.

He’d even guessed wrong.

You walked up to a door across the hall, and one door down, from where he suspected the old Asgardian Magic originated. 

Not daring to touch the door, he stepped up behind you and watched you pop the keycard in the door. Watched the little light flash from red to green. Before you stepped in, he glanced up and down the hallway. 

Upon stepping into the room, he immediately noticed the ruins drawn into the wall with blood, your blood, upon further inspection. That blood glowed gold. Each ruin was perfectly written as well. Forming an arch from the floor, up the wall, across the ceiling, down the other side and to the floor. Making him very glad he didn’t touch the door, even just to shut it. Loki noticed the entire interior door was covered with one large knot, in your blood as well.

When your eyes met, he conceded, “You always were better at that then me.”

You had no response.

Not just because it was true, or because you could hear your lady in waiting call your name softly.

Softly, you answered back, flipping the light on in the suite and illuminating the young woman on the couch. Who let out a shriek at the sight of Loki behind you.

At first, the young woman stood and bowed deeply. Then she grabbed the blanket she’d been sleeping under, to wrap around her shoulders and cover her flowery nightgown, and the she remembered, “Your Highness…I I didn’t know you were coming. Can I get you something to drink? Eat?”

Before you could say a word, Loki spoke up, looking around the neat but obviously lived in room. “Yes, go pack a bag. We’re returning to Asgard.”

When her eyes sought out yours, he added coldly, “Now.” 

His mossy eyes followed her when she hurried out of the common area living room and towards an open door, which Loki assume was her bedroom. Which meant the open doorway by it was the second bedroom and with a glance at you, you nodded. Which was all the encouragement he needed. A man on mission, he crossed the distance quickly, intent on one goal. 

You followed, if a bit slower.

Perhaps a bit of guilt began to bloom in your chest. Especially when you watched Loki storm on into the room and flip on a light. You watched him walk over to a cradle and without a moments hesitation, reach in, to scoop up his sleeping infant.

You rubbed that tightening spot between your breasts.

With the utmost care, you watched Loki hold the cubby little sleeper up to his chest, wrap an arm that had seen warfare and killed many around your son, softly touching the child and looking him over closely. Smelling his soft black hair and smoothing far larger fingers over plump little cheeks.

You could not help but feel that tightening worsen, as you witnessed what you’d denied him. Your mouth feeling dry, your eyes burning. 

When you stepped up beside Loki, you peered down at Vali, who slept like a champ. Which was at least something he got from you. As one look at the child and there was no question who his father was, in all of Asgard.

Loki did not notice the horrifically bright room, the ugly furniture, hell, he barely noticed you. All he could really focus on was the little life in his arms that slept so peacefully, so soundly. His flesh and blood son. He was a father. The idea had felt foreign to him, up until he finally held his own child. It was something he wanted, craved, deeply desired. And now, now he finally had it. 

He could finally understand, with the utmost certainty, how his mother could have loved him so unconditionally at first sight.

“Papa?”

At first, Loki was a bit confused. 

His son was sound asleep in his arms. Plus, this baby was far too young to be anywhere near capable of speech. Which led him to look up and notice a little figure in the bedroom’s doorway. 

A young boy with sleep tousled black hair and your eyes.

You spoke softly to the child, who, Loki noticed, had on Iron Man pajamas. “Yes Nari, Papa just got back from his trip. Speak softly, your brother is asleep.”

The outraged look that Loki gave you was deserved, even you had to admit it.

“Darling, you are in so much trouble,” he told you, handing over Vali so he could go get a closer look at his other son. One only a few years older than Vali, by Midgard standards. And not that he had to go far. The child ran into the room, leapt into his embrace, beaming broadly and wrapping small little arms around Loki’s neck.

“I can’t wait to go ride the horses again!”

As you shifted Vali around in your arms, the infant never stirring once, obviously your child, as if there was ever any doubt, Loki gave you a puzzled look. And as he juggled the older boy onto his hip, so he could look closer at him, you quietly explained, “I fill his dreams with you.”

So, perhaps you were in a little less trouble.

His child, his other child, Nari, placed a little hand on his chest and leaned into him with such affection, such trust, as if Loki had been there since his birth. Around his neck hung a pendant Loki recognized. One he himself wore as a child. His mother had given it to him and he’d kept it, it was somewhere in his chambers, somewhere in chest towards the back.

Or so he had thought.

“We’re going somewhere better, my boy.”

“Better than horses?”

“Far better,” Loki promised, softly pressing his lips to Nari’s head. “We’re going home.”

***

Loki hadn’t snuck into the palace since he was an adolescent and oddly enough, with you back then too.

Sneaking in, again, with his sons, under the cover of darkness, as if he’d done something wrong was greatly displeasing. However, it seemed to be the only way you would not throw an absolute fit. The only way you’d let his sons into the palace, was if you’d snuck in. And since he had no desire to fight with you, after finally getting his sons within his grasp, Loki relented.

One thing he would not relent on, not even a bit.

He would not even bend.

“Where are we going,” you whispered, as it was late and you had no desire to wake the rest of Asgard’s Royal Family, or explain the second little prince. 

You knew where he wanted you to go.

You knew the palace like the back of your hand. In the softly lit corridor that split two ways, one which would lead to the women’s quarters and the other to the men’s, you had a sinking feeling.

Loki merely gestured towards the way that led to his chambers.

“Estrid is having my chambers prepared,” you whispered in response. Over your shoulder was a heavy bag, and in a sling, Vali. Who watched you, having woken up on the rainbow bridge after all the jostling from the journey.

When he said your name in warning, you knew there was no winning on this.

Loki would not budge.

With an outstretched hand, he waited until you walked down the corridor of his choosing, more than aware of the little eyes that took in everything with wonder. Still on his hip, his son clung to his black tie excitedly, clearly thrilled with the new direction his night had taken.

Like any royal couple of Asgard, you had separate chambers.

Your chambers had a beautiful view of the gardens and was strategically located by the baths, which was one thing you genuinely missed while in Midgard.

Maybe tomorrow, you’d get a chance to indulge in the steaming waters.

Tomorrow was a new day.

Tomorrow you could get your bearings again, figure out the new normal that would be your life.

Loki watched you like a hawk.

He followed you closely, as if you’d dart away and take off for Midgard again. In his opinion, you were looking a bit flighty. Knowing you were exhausted and very likely in need of a good meal, since you’d refused to eat down in the dungeons, he refrained from picking the fight he so desperately wanted to have. 

Two children, you had kept two children from him? He had so much to say to you, so much to get off his chest.

And he would do so, when you weren’t so vulnerable.

Tomorrow would be a better time.

Loki’s chambers were across from Thor’s and his brother’s room was thankfully empty. Loki did indeed peek in the open doorway, before following you into the large expanse of his chambers. He watched your reaction. Loki’s gaze followed you into his rooms as you tentatively stepped in, your hand softly caressing Vali’s head. 

First was the sitting room, a large area overlooking Asgard with a balcony running the expanse of one wall, couches, drapes with sculptures, bookcases and several doorways leading to an office, bedrooms, a small intimate dining room as well as a few other rooms.

“Mother put our family crib in my bedroom. Put Vali down. I’ll have some food brought up for us.”

Your look was surprised, a denial on your lips.

No, he could not fight with you tonight. He could not fight with his wife, not when she was afraid to eat food from her own home.

He had work to do first.

***

It was no real challenge for Frigga, to get in Loki’s chambers.

She’d seen him arrive back and she’d waited. 

How she wanted to run over and greet them. Yet, she could pick up on the uncertainty, the unease simmering just beneath you both. 

Waiting was not hard.

The Queen of Asgard could wait and wait she did, until she was certain that everyone but Loki was sound asleep. 

Only then did she ferret her way inside, padding silently on the marble floors, robes swishing behind her on the cool floor. Thick hair falling down around her shoulders, as she hurried through the rooms belonging to her younger son. Upon appearing in the bedroom doorway, Loki was not at all surprised to see his mother. She was however surprised to see him, lounged out in his expansive bed, a dark-haired babe on his chest and a slightly older young one curled up against his arm. Her favorite daughter-in-law curled on her side, sound asleep, also facing Loki.

Both hands went up to the queen’s mouth, her eyes widened. “Oh my son…there are two, you have two boys.”

Loki’s gaze only briefly flickered up to his mother, in his dimly lit room, before falling back to the sleeping lump on his chest. A far larger hand softly traced along the short length of Vali’s body, up and down, again and again, taking in the warmth and softness. 

Softly he spoke, “You did not tell me you saw two.”

The queen hurried over to her son. Her hands fell down, motioning hurriedly for him to hand over his youngest. Her voice just as soft. “I did not realize it was two. I thought it was one…” impatiently, as her son lifted his own, she wrapped knowing hands around the chubby baby. Frigga lifted up the little prince and rested him on her chest. Soothing her hand over his face, his hair, his little hands and fingers. “…having grown. I did not realize it was two…Loki, you cannot allow these precious little ones to leave Asgard. Look at this face…oh he looks just like you did.” 

With one out of the bed, Loki glanced down at the face drooling on him, mouth gaping, little fingers gripped the fabric of his father’s shirt. A noise that could have meant anything, came from the trickster god.

“You didn’t bespell her…”

“No,” he sighed, glancing over at you, as you slept like the dead. Slept so deeply Frigga could see your true exhaustion without magic. “I did nothing to her mother.”

Frigga frowned. Her gaze travelled between everyone in the bed, the little life in her arms and back to her grown son. “You must convince her to stay.”

“I know.”

Of course he knew, he was her son, of course he would understand what all was at stake. “The Master of the Dungeon is expecting you. There are several down there waiting for your questions.”

“I will go the second she awakes.”

Frigga narrowed her eyes. She looked over you closely and then asked, “Did you take precautions in the dungeon?”

Silence followed.

“Loki,” she admonished.

Unable to even feign regret, Loki met his mother’s outraged expression, coolly unimpressed. 

“Now is not the time to conceive another. Not when she is so stressed and unsure of life here. You must convince her, make her understand that our family must remain intact in Asgard.”

Still silent, Loki watched both you and your son sleep.

Frigga sighed, “You two never could keep your hands off one another. It’s truly astounding, that she did not marry you while heavy with your child.”

Loki could not disagree.

Considering how many times you both had been caught throughout the palace, in various states of undress, in various stages of carnal acts. It was no secret that neither of you had been virginal on your wedding day. Most especially after that incident in the stables, when the Dwarf King and Odin stumbled upon the pair of you, nearly achieving coital bliss. 

“I’ll return in the morning for the boy,” Frigga informed him, getting Loki’s attention.

When he looked to his mother, she backed slowly from the bed, swaying with her new grandchild. “Mother…”

Refusing to meet his gaze, she waved a hand. “Your father wants to see the baby and will be pleased to hear about…” at that, she did look up. “What are their names?”

Loki should not have been at all surprised. He really shouldn’t. His mother was something of a firecracker herself. Since he was unable to untangle himself from his oldest, he nodded at her, “That is Vali. And this here, is Nari.”

Downright pleased with herself, Frigga leaned down to kiss Vali before continuing her journey out.

“Do not allow anyone to feed him,” Loki added and was rewarded with a reproachful look from his mother, and then she was gone.

***

You woke up slowly, languidly.

Warm. Safe. Curled up in a soft bed with cushy pillows. Wrapped up in silky blankets that were neither too hot, nor too cold. Blissful sleep had enveloped you and for the first time, in a long time, you’d slept like a rock.

It’d been glorious.

When you awoke, you came to realize that you’d woken in Loki’s bed and that sent you curling up in the pillows, stretching out like a cat.

Until you remembered, how you wound up in his bed.

That sent you into an upright seated position immediately, looking around for your two small children.

Where were your children?

And where was Loki?

This sent you sprawling to your feet, still wearing the clothes you’d had on in Midgard, your hair forgotten and shoes…you weren’t even sure where they’d gotten to. All you could focus on were your boys. Evidence that they’d been in Loki’s bedroom was scattered around. A crib at the foot of the bed. Iron Man pajamas on the floor. A few little toys on the balcony.

Calling out all three names, you hurried from the bedroom and checked around the chambers.

Nothing.

You also noticed, based on the sun, you’d slept late and well into mid-day, annoying you further.

Which sent you scouring around the halls and out into the palace.

Not that it took you long to track them down. Talk about Loki’s sons returning to Asgard was everywhere. Several times you were congratulated, as if it were simply common knowledge and you all were just returning from an extended vacation. 

Had you not been on a mission, you would have had just the words for those two-faced courtiers. 

Instead, you had a higher calling in that moment.

***

Loki never thought he would get to watch his son play up on his father’s golden throne.

Oh he had dreamt of such a thing.

Yet, over time, it had been pushed back further and further.

Now though, watching Nari sit up high on the Throne of Asgard, dressed in his colors, smiling broadly and listening to his Uncle Thor regale him with history that was painted up on the ceiling, Loki could say he was pleased.

It filled him with a very male satisfaction.

“And that is why you must do what is required my son. She must remain here with these children. Otherwise, your mother has insisted she’ll setup a residence on Midgard. I do not think, I need to elaborate, on all the reasons why that is not acceptable.”

“No, of course not father,” Loki parroted to Odin, who had yet to hand over Vali.

Several times, he had tried to grab back his infant son. 

The All-Father had yet to relinquish him, as if afraid you’d leap from behind a pillar of the throne room, grab the possible heir and take off for parts unknown.

As if on cue, the heavy doors to the throne room opened.

Both Odin and Loki turned to see you. 

You, as you slipped in and the royal guards shut the doors immediately after, giving the royal family the privacy they’d requested, while dealing with this newfound family issue. 

A princess hiding the heirs of Asgard in one of the Nine Realms. 

Unthinkable.

Thor and Nari were far too wrapped up, to notice little ole you.

“What is she wearing,” Odin frowned.

As the throne room was huge, it would be a moment before you approached. Leading Loki to force out a polite, “That is fashionable on Midgard.”

Whether it was age, or the situation making him a bit grumpy, Odin sighed the sigh of the long suffering. “I know what it is Loki. Why is she wearing it still? Has she completely descended into madness?”

Loki wasn’t about to rule that out.

“I am handling it father.”

Odin made a noise, “You have till your brother’s birthday. Your mother has mentioned buying property in Maui. I do not think, I need to expound, upon how horrifying that is, to you.”

No, no he did not.

Loki shook his head, “Of course not, father.”

Odin was all smiles for you, Loki noticed.

Odin hugged you tightly, kissed your forehead and spoke highly of the beautiful grandsons you’d given him. Then, with a knowing look directed at Loki, called for Thor and Nari, announcing a trip to the stables.

You were too annoyed to care about the teasing look Thor sent Loki, at mention of the royal stables.

No sooner had you tracked down your little princes, were they carted off.

It was outrageous and you would not stand for it.

You wanted your boys where you could see them. Clearly, falling asleep had been a bigger mistake than agreeing to stay in Loki’s chambers. Whom’s arm you swatted. “Could you not have woken me up when you rose?”

Loki managed to only just wait till Odin and Thor were away. Out of sight, out of hearing range, on their way to the stables, to give him much needed privacy. His hand snaked out, fingers sinking into the fabric of your blouse, pulling you close.

“They are my sons!” Loki snarled at you, “They will be fine with my father and my brother. You and I need to have a discussion.”

Such a tone.

You inched closer to him, till your bodies pressed together. Till you could feel his breath on your face. “You don’t know that. This Vipers Nest is the last place they need to be! Everyone now knows about them Loki!”

His fingers tightened in the fabric of your shirt. “This Vipers Nest is where they belong! Where we all belong and I’ll have you know, my sweet, there are six less Vipers as of dawn! So do not give me any lip.”

For a second, you took that in, absorbed it, let it roll around.

You knew you were alone. And still, you didn’t want to be too obvious. “What about ‘The’ Viper?” 

Loki pulled you even closer, with a hand that had been covered with blood that very morning. Not a hint of regret, nor physical clue to what he’d done to the six Asgardians remained. If anything, he regretted that he hadn’t made them suffer longer. His grip pulled you up to your toes. “The guards are looking for him and others. They will find him and I will personally deal with him, as I have dealt with his conspirators, as well as those who kept his secret. And when I am done with him, his head with sit on a spike outside of this palace in warning.”

Still though, he was not done.

He had to contend with you now.

Loki had a big day ahead of him.

Before you could say a word, or ponder the fate of those who’d taken a growing family from you, Loki drug you behind him. He dragged you to the throne. He pulled you up the golden stairs, as you struggled to keep up, whilst on your toes.

That mental image of a head on a spike remained though, lingered.

Not in an upsetting way.

A deeply satisfying sort of way. 

Your maternal need for what was lost, taken from you, so viciously denied to you, had to be quenched. Your maternal need to protect had been so overpowering and strong, it had practically drunkened you. Till all you could worry about was that one thing alone. This yang to your ying was so welcome, such a relief. It opened up that narrow scope you’d been just surviving in. Thriving had just not been possible. It was no way to live. It was not what your little princes deserved.

When Loki all but threw you onto Odin’s throne, you snapped out of your thoughts.

The gold was neither soft, nor forgiving and you grimaced.

You shifted till you sat back, one barefoot on the seat, bracing you on the slippery surface in your denim.

“This is where my sons belong,” your husband barked.

Your hands gripped the smooth surface.

“They’re not leaving Asgard and neither are you. I don’t care if I have to kill half the court.”

While that was a bit dramatic, you wouldn’t put it past him in his state. You were a bit dramatic too. So who were you to judge? Considering what came from your mouth next, you were no better than your beloved. “How did you do it?”

They had been complicit, in some way, in your miscarriages. If Loki was going to end their lives for such a crime, it was only fair that you shoulder that weight.

“Do not make that face my princess. They were neither my friends, nor comrades and regicide is a capital offense.” When you raised an eyebrow, he went on, placing hands on the arm of his father’s throne, leaning down closer. “With a knife to their throat. I bled them out like the beasts they are. I’ve yet to decide on the fate of the poisoner.”

Again, you thought on that, as you watched Loki walk around the throne in his black and green. Black hair down and was it a touch damp?

“Do you know what you do to me? I would execute them all here, before all of Asgard for you, and the children you give me.”

Your eyes followed him.

Roughly, his fingers took your wrinkled shirt in hand and tore it quickly down the middle, sending buttons flying, the sound of fabric tearing, sharp in your ears. Even less gently, he yanked it over your head and threw it aside. Those hands fell on your jeans next and you quickly got off your bra, as he yanked the zipper down so hard it broke. Yanking off your jeans so roughly, you heard seams rip.

“I wanted to do this all last night, but you slept like the dead.”

Your lacy underwear suffered an equally rough death.

“And as greedy as I am for your body, I am selfish and want to hear every last cry from your seditious little mouth.”

Loki dropped down to his knees before you.

You could barely breathe.

Your breaths rushed out and with every rise of your chest, you could feel yourself lose control of your body to heat and need and a wicked sort of desire.

Hands smoothed over your bare thighs, spreading you open on his father’s throne.

His green eyes pinned you to where you sat. You didn’t dare move.

It was Loki who broke eye contact first. All so he could look and what a masterpiece you were. Becoming wet, pink lips starting to gleam.

“Thinking back to our first time?”

And then his tongue was on you, wet and skilled, starting at your slit and dragging up through your folds to your clit, which he toyed with just to torment you.

Honestly, you hadn’t even thought about your first time. It had been on the throne. But it had been fast, exciting, forbidden and resulted in racing hearts, a hasty coupling and even quicker orgasms. It’d taken longer to sneak into the throne room, than it had to take one another’s innocence.

“Depends? Do you intend to fuck me till I bleed, then come on my stomach again?”

In response, Loki sucked deeply on your clit, painfully, making you gasp and snake a hand down, to thread fingers in his hair. After which he lapped at your little nub, “Oh I think we can make it far more memorable.”

You had to agree.

Both of you had come a long way since your adolescence. And in other ways not. You sank your fingers deeper into his silky hair. “Mmm…you can surpass that special memory? I don’t think it is possible, my pet.”

Such a mouth his wife had, so sharp and at times condescending.

It made him harder with each passing year.

With each passing year, Loki grew more and more familiar with your body, your desires and wants. Because needs could easily be met, it was the wants that he took particular interest in satisfying.

Making you climax with his mouth, as you writhed around on the Asgardian Throne, was a desire, a personal want.

Just how you greatly appreciated, Loki drug his tongue up the length of you once more, swiping through your gathering wetness and sucking loudly on your clit, stroking it with his tongue and slipping a finger into you. When you arched back, he slipped in a second, curling them in that most perfect way. Tightly you pulled his hair. Letting him know just how much you appreciated his efforts. 

“Last time…” he spoke against you, “…we had to be quiet. I wonder how loud I can make you scream, before the guards come in here?”

You lifted your head at his threat.

His eyes met yours, his dark eyebrows rose.

And you pushed his head back down. His mouth felt so divine against you and it had been so long, you just wanted him to stay down there forever. And perhaps something to that effect came from you. You heard his taunting voice. “All you had to do was ask, darling. Ask and I would gladly provide.”

A third finger was added that you most certainly felt. Your head fell back, to hit the hard throne soundly. 

You began to make soft little noises, that made Loki smear his arousal on the inside of his pants. Your body began to coil and control over yourself waned. Your thighs trembled, as your lover sucked and toyed with your clit as if it were candy, fingers curled inside you with loud wet noises.

Close, you were so so close.

And his mouth was gone, that wicked tongue too. It left you feeling confused and let down. It made you look up to see his slippery mouth and chin and nose. It left you watching him untie the laces on the front of his back pants, his green flowing top gone. And when he pulled his cock free, it was flushed red, pre-cum smeared all over the tip. Veins wrapped around his girth. As he fisted his foreskin back, you licked your lips in anticipation of how good it would feel.

Unable to wait another second, Loki grabbed your knee, yanked you till your ass hung off the edge of the throne and then drove into your wet heat. 

Your fist went to your mouth.

It took a second thrust, to push all the way in and the burn was incredible. “Better than the first time,” he smirked at you. 

When you looked up at him with big eyes, a gasping mouth and hand clenching onto the golden side of the throne, an unasked question hung between you both.

“Now I know this cunt is mine and will not break.” 

Did it ever burn as you adjusted, as he began to fuck you in earnest, slamming his hips into you and pulling out. Till he was nearly fully out of your body, his crown remaining within your walls, and then, Loki would shove in, claiming you, claiming you like a conqueror. Shaking your body so violently, your breasts bounced each time. Making your hair fall forward in a curtain, get stuck against your wet mouth. Your hands scraped against the throne for a grip desperately. His balls smacked you on each thrust, his fingers dug so tightly in your thighs, there would be bruises. He held you open so wide, he sank in fully each time. A cry came from you every time he’d bottom out, as if he touched your soul each time.

It was perfection. No one would ever be able to make you feel like Loki.

He continued to hammer away at you until his own hair was a mess, a red flush had begun to bloom on his chest and cheeks, which had begun to dampen. Wet sloppy noises came from your joining and your ass slipped around on the throne. Slick from where your combined excretions dripped out, slid down you and smeared around, beneath you.

You came suddenly. 

Fingertips sinking into unyielding gold, as you bit your lip so hard it bled. Moaning sounds came through your clenched mouth, making Loki smirk. Loki who fucked you right through it. In fact, he took your thighs in both hands, spread them apart wider and proceeded to thrust harder, reveling at the sight of your ecstasy.

Not that he allowed you a second to come down.

Knowing just how sensitive your body would be, how powerful your orgasm was, being the second you’d had in just over three hundred days, he grabbed your hair and pulled you up to your feet.

He slapped your wet, tingling clit hard enough that your scream echoed through the large cavernous room. His grip on your hair was tight and as he sat, he purred, “Beg for mercy and call me your King, my love. I want to hear you scream it.” And that was when you remembered your words. Words you never had a chance to regret.

Loki pulled you down on his lap, spearing you with his shaft, sinking back home into your sopping wetness, ripping a throaty gasp from you.

His long legs hooked around yours, yanking yours open as wide as was comfortable and even then, there was a touch of pain. An absolute perfect amount, fully exposing you. Filling you so completely, your words were pushed out, as if there was no room for them in your body.

“My King…oh my king, my king please…” 

More than pleased with those words, Loki began to push up into you, his eyes rolling back in his head at this position, this depth he was reaching. You really did have the best ideas.

With one hand, he fisted your hair and with the other, he reached around to cup your breast, toy with your nipple, pound himself up into you without slowing. Valhalla did it feel good. It was warm and soft and wet. Loki could have been in a dream. Viciously he pounded up into you, as if he needed you to breathe. Your climax made you even wetter. Your own arousal dripped down his shaft, matting his wiry hair to his flesh with your cum, dripping down along the inner curve of his thigh and on to the throne. 

His grip on your breast tightened and as he plowed up into you in a haze, he pulled you down on his painfully hard cock. It made you scream his name. It made you beg, plead, and sob for him. 

Without a doubt, the guards outside heard but would do nothing, as he instructed.

“You’re my queen,” he snarled, pulling you down even harder on him. Sending you into another climax, one that had your hands desperately reaching for something, anything, to ground yourself on. So close to his own release, Loki could not control himself when he told you defiantly. “You will stay here, with me, my family. If I have to lock you in! You’ll remain here in Asgard!”

You were shattering and you didn’t care. Loki came beneath you with a bellow of his own, his grip tight enough you’d have bruises on your body. You’d feel him throughout the day with every step you took. He came deep within you, pushing up further, pulling you down harder, expelling every last drop of cum into your pussy, it felt like. Until nothing was left and his face fell into the curve of your spine, between your shoulders. 

Loki’s grip on your hair was gone, but only so that hand could wrap around you and cup your other breast, pull you back against him, stroke your tender nipples and kiss your neck mindlessly. All as his body hummed with white noise.

You collapsed back against him, very aware he was still inside of you. You were breathless and sweaty, your eyelids heavy. “Are you…going…to plug me…again,” you gasped, aware that you were sticking to his chest. Aware that he very likely could feel your heart pounding, so violently through the back of your chest.

A little wisp of blackish smoke, that shone with green as it dissipated into the air, caught your attention.

You rolled your head to the side, curious, your hair stuck to his chest and neck, even face. 

Not that Loki cared. Loki pressed his lips to your cheek, as his softening cock began to slip out. In his hand no longer stroking your breast, was a glass plug, green, obviously, round as a plum with a handle. Against the side of your face he spoke softly, reaching down over the nude expanse of your body. “Mother thinks we should be safe during relations. Until things are settled and calm.”

In total agreement, you nodded.

As the glass object touched your swollen lips, that felt as if they were full of live wires, you parted your legs. Arching up and moaning, when Loki pushed the plug up into your messy walls, which seemed to suck it in, in your opinion. As if knowing its purpose and being in agreement. Or perhaps, your pussy was still clenching a bit, from the orgasm. “That is…wise. Likely…the…smartest choice…”

“Mother is wise,” he agreed, bringing his hand back to your free breast. Wet from his cum and your excretions, Loki smeared the mixture over your tender flesh and found he liked how it looked. “We’re not wise though, my goddess. I will fuck you till you’re heavy with child and then, I will fuck you more, plump and ripe with my seed growing in your womb, until you give me a daughter.”

Humming in agreement with your husband, “That does indeed sound like something we would do.”


	4. Chapter 4

Three nights had passed that you’d woken up in the late hours, to find Loki’s bed empty and Frigga seated out in the common area of the chambers, either knitting a blanket for Vali, or reading from a tome that quite possibly was older than Asgard. She’d smile and tell you to go back to sleep, assure you all was well and you would, secure in the knowledge that no one would get past her to harm either one of Loki’s sons.

Come the fourth night, when you awoke in bed, again empty on his side, you had suspicions.

On that fourth night, you wanted to know for absolute sure.

You slid from bed and wrapped yourself in your black robe, belted it and checked on your boys. Pulling up your hair and then swiftly leaving Loki’s bedroom, which had become one large family bedroom. You had no idea how long it would last. On the other side of his bedroom was a large room. One that had been cleared out, in preparation to be turned into a nursery.

Your clothes had been brought in and you began to suspect, that perhaps, perhaps, Loki planned for the four of you to all inhabit his chambers for the immediate future. It was not a certainty. You only knew that when you tried to return to your own chambers, to collect things, the doors were locked up. Even you were unable to open them.

Both boys slept soundly.

Vali with a scowl on his chubby little face. His nightly meal dried on his face, from his wriggling when you tried to wipe his soft skin clean. Clearly that made you a monster in his eyes.

Nari, on the other hand, slept in Thor’s old bed brought up from storage. Contorted at angles that looked horribly uncomfortable. You had no doubt, once you set off to find his father, he’d contort himself back into a painful looking position. How he woke up able to walk was beyond you. But, you brushed your fingers through his silky black hair and then padded from Loki’s bedroom, into the inner chambers where once more, Frigga sat, continuing her work on the green blanket.

She glanced up at you, over her needles, from one of the two large couches.

“Please tell me, he is off somewhere in this palace having some manner of illicit affair and he isn’t where I think he is, doing what I suspect.”

The Queen’s gaze went back to her needles and yarn. “We both know my son only has eyes for you.”

Her answer could only mean one thing.

“Where is he?”

Her needles moved several times before pausing, so she could tug on a ball of emerald yarn in a wine pitcher. “Down in the dungeons, I would imagine. Down beneath where you stayed.” When her gaze lifted, there was a neutral expression that told you she knew more than she was saying. It was confirmed when she added, “I would put on far sturdier footwear child. Your slippers will just get filthy.”

And that was exactly how you found yourself down in the dungeons, again.

A pair of Loki’s boots strapped as tightly as possible around your calves and still loose, making each one of your steps noisy.

An invading army would have heard you.

Slowly, arms crossed over your chest as you wandered through the vast empty palace of Asgard. Slowly, you made your way down to the stairs that would take you down into the bowels of the royal residence.

More than one palace guard noticed you, none stopped you.

None asked where you were going, or what you were doing so late.

One or two may have seemed curious. But not one armored guard said a single word.

You passed several of them the deeper you slumped down the stone steps, into the cool damp lower levels, past the level you were kept in till you found the chamber you sought, illuminated poorly and full of thick doors that hid cells. Sconces on the walls held candles that only just dimly lit the way.

It did not escape your notice, that the cells were locked shut and full.

You began to rub your arms to warm them from the chill, it had long since sunk through the thin layers of your silky robes.

Loki’s boots flopped on the uneven stones beneath the soles.

It was only when you very nearly came to the only dungeon door, Frigga could have meant, that you heard someone softly speak. “Your Highness? You should not be down here.”

Pausing in your journey, you turned, seeing three guards, but not Palace guards, not obviously guards, but you knew what a hired guard looked like. The Asgardians before you wore shades of black with their armor, making you suspect they were commissioned by your dear husband. Which led you to casually inquire, “Is he here?”

When you looked at them closer, you noticed that they looked somewhat familiar. 

As if you’d seen them all somewhere before? Or they could have been the feeling of being followed all the time, since you’d been back?

“He is,” one of them finally answered you.

Which wasn’t entirely necessary. 

At that, you felt Loki’s magic. Much like building weather, it began to form from nearby, possibly behind that door down at the hallways end. A lot of it too. It made goosebumps rise on your arms, on the back of your neck. In oversized boots, you shifted from one leg to the other and looked around the dank hallway. So far down in the ground, the walls were damp with wetness and you could smell the cold stones. 

“And this is where he has come for the past three nights?”

A different one answered. One that you knew for sure you’d seen when out in the gardens. 

“Yes, your highness.”

Yes, your highness, could there be a more blanket response? Nodding, you looked around at the locked doors that had no windows. Gesturing with a hand free of jewelry, you asked, “Are all these full of my husband’s prisoners?”

Only a moment of hesitation came, and that was only because they looked at the doors, as if to check to see.

“Yes, your highness,” followed shortly after.

No more questions came from you. Not because you had no more questions, but because there was a loud metal clang that came from behind. Sounds of heavy wood scraped along the stone floor. Around your legs, your robe swirled from his mother’s magic. It made you wonder just what he’d been doing, considering how much he’d used.

“Darling, what are you doing down here?”

At that, you turned, arms crossed with mild curiosity. “When I woke up, you were gone, again. I’d hoped that you’d been off working your way through my ladies in waiting. I’d sincerely hoped you’d not be doing what I suspect you’re doing, without me, denying me some manner of explanation for what was done to us.”

Hearing your words and seeing your ever so slight flicker of grief, Loki reached his hand out for you. 

The fact you’d come all the way down here in your robe, you much have just woken.

When you approached, he saw the toes of his boots, heard them slap against the floor, too big on you. Your hand was cold in his and he wound up taking both of them, holding them between his palms. Waiting for his personal guard to disperse back through the halls, as they were supposed to and it was a good thing they’d found you. If you’d wandered into the end room where Loki had been, you would have caught him doing something very bad.

“Fear not, my love. I will bring you down to see the one who orchestrated this plot against us. Currently, I am interrogating his associates, friends, sympathizers. Most specifically, the Asgardian who provided him the poison when you arrived. It will be a few days yet, until my inquiry completes.”

Your head tilted to the side.

Every night he’d been at work, ripping secrets and information from the treacherous snakes. It was downright frightening, how many knew of the plot to keep him from the throne, how many would do whatever it took to ensure that only Thor sat on the throne of Asgard. It was so simple. It was such a basic plot. A plot that Loki could understand, even if he obviously didn’t agree with it. And had it been focused only on him, perhaps he would not have taken it so personally. 

The plot directed at his wife, his queen, his goddess and unborn children, his heirs, well that was just uncalled for. That was unacceptable and he would not allow such a thing to go unpunished. Severely unpunished.

Every additional word he heard from the mouths of these plotters only confirmed to him, you’d done the right thing. 

Had they known about Nari or Vali, they would have killed his boys. His perfect and lively and vibrant boys, exploding with life and wonder and filled with unconditional love. No. No one would harm a hair on their heads. He understood now what you’d done. Before he understood. Now, upon hearing the traitors speak, he understood your actions more deeply, down to his bones.

“I want to see.”

Why wouldn’t his wife want to see? You were such a perfect fit for him, it would have been more surprising if you didn’t want to see.

“You want to see?”

In response you nodded.

Taking your hands from his, you reached up to tuck loose strands of inky hair behind his ears. Upon doing so, your hands returned with light smears of blood. “Oh yes, your highness, I most definitely want to see.” Suspecting that your robes and nightdress would be ruined, you just wiped your hands on the fabric. 

His hair, of course.

How could he have forgotten that, when he quickly cleaned up, alerted by the guard that you were here? He’d washed his hands and face, changed into clean clothes quickly and used a few of Frigga’s tricks, in the event you peeked into the interrogation room.

Glad to have used those tricks, Loki held his elbow out to you and his stomach knotted when you slipped your fingers into the crook of his arm, just like it did the very first time.

Every time you touched him was like the first time.

You still had that effect on him.

Each of your fingers on his arm burnt through his fresh shirt. His mouth went dry. Loki escorted you over to the heavy wooden door enforced with bands of metal, which he pushed open with the toe of his boot.

You peered into a space far too well lit, far too clean. A man in far too good condition stood in a small cell, in the corner of the stone walled and floored space. In the center of the room was another man, bound to a chair.

It was all too perfect.

Your skin tingled from the heavy use of magic in the air.

“Loki,” you murmured, one word saying everything.

In response, your husband sighed deeply in resignation. With a casual flip of his other hand, a gold shimmer swept through the room. Indicating it was something he’d learned from his mother. Everything changed, everything became far worse.

The entire room seemed to dim. A distinctive metallic smell of blood became pervasive and that cell in the corner of the room grew smaller, standing room only smaller. Beside that metal cage was a small pile of three bodies. Blood from those bodies formed a small stream towards a drain, carved into the center of the room. In the center of the otherwise practically empty room was an empty chair. On the floor in front of the chair was another dead Asgardian man. A few steps away from the dead man was his head.

“That’s better…” was your soft response. Followed by a casual, “Oh my love, you’ve been busy tonight.”

Loki made a noise of agreement. He pressed his body against yours, felt you through the layers of fabric. He breathed in your soap and perfume and was a young hormonal male once more. So desperate for you it hurt, so hungry for you he could barely breathe or see straight. No matter what, it was never enough. After all your years together, it was never enough. He had a quenchless thirst for you that still raged.

Back when he was young, when he was innocent, he thought that it would eventually pass and mature, much like the spirits aged in barrels down the hall.  
Now Loki knew better.

His desire for you hadn’t calmed, or matured into something smooth and rich, or intoxicating. If anything, it burnt hotter, raged with more vehemence, demanded more and more and more. It had sent him into a rage. On those first two nights in the dungeons, he’d killed the conspirators too quickly. Overcome with fury over what had been taken from him. Blinded by the knowledge of how you’d suffered. The previous night, he’d done better. He’d controlled himself far longer before ending the lives of the plotters. 

“Who is in the cage? It looks like one of Odin’s advisors.”

Loki rested a hand over your smaller one on his elbow. “It is. He is behind it all. I am saving him for last. His head will be the one to decorate a spike.”

Your voice didn’t waiver at all. “How will he die?”

Your coldness, your callousness, you viciousness…it made him press his lips against your temple and thank his ancestors for the gift that was you. “Mmmm…I’ve not yet decided…perhaps a quartering?”

When you looked up at him, into his eyes, you cocked your head to the side. Briefly giving some thought to what came from your mouth next. “He’ll suffer though first? Right?”

“Darling…does it even need to be said?”

***

It was two days later and Loki couldn’t find you, or his sons.

He wouldn’t say he panicked.

No, he didn’t panic.

What he felt inside his chest surpassed a simple panic.

Loki felt his chest clench, a cold sweat broke out over his body, hairs rose on the back of his neck as his stomach rolled. Had he not looked over every inch of his chambers and then the gardens, where you could frequently be found with the boys, he would have been physically sick. They loved to play outside in the maze, among the statues. You were in neither place. Nor were you in the library or stables. You weren’t even in your own chambers.

Terror, it was closer to terror, what he felt down into his toes. His shoulders burnt and when he hurried to his mother’s chambers, his breathing began to pick up.

No one had seen you.

The guards had lost track of you.

No one had seen the boys since the noon meal.

Hurriedly, Loki entered his mother’s chambers. Larger than his and so warm and welcoming, he could and had in the past, rested on the couches for a day. Doing no more than to read, eat and chat among the pillows and soft blankets, studying and learning, seeping in the knowledge and acceptance and love from Frigga. 

He shouted a little louder than he realized. 

Hollered was more like it.

His mother’s rich voice drifted from her wardrobe, which was where Loki hurried and was floored to see you beside his mother, looking over a gown. Nari sat on the floor playing with old ruin squares. As Loki had when he was the boys age. Vali rested on your hip, chubby little fingers grabbing at clothing that hung all around. More clothing than he’d ever seen hung in anticipation of Thor’s upcoming birthday celebration.

“Yes, my son,” his mother purred.

Eyes from both of the most important women in his life were fixed on him.

You were with his mother. Why wouldn’t you have been with his mother? Naturally, that would be where you were and why hadn’t he checked here, while he was tearing through both of your respective chambers?

Loki’s mouth opened.

His mind worked quick. 

Quickly, his mouth shut and Loki preened. “I was unable find you mother. I was worried.”

A little noise that spoke volumes came from Frigga. You were equally unimpressed. You both then looked back to the bronze and emerald gown. One she’d dug out from the deep depths of her closets. 

“This is the one, I agree. We’ll send it to my seamstress for tailoring and it will be done by tomorrow,” Frigga nodded, smoothing her hands over the lush fabric she’d worn ages ago. Missing nothing, she directed her next words at her son. “Have you finished up with your father and brother for the day?”

A noise of confirmation came from Loki, as he strolled into the space that looked to him like an explosion of fabric. Loki was near certain there was some degree of organization that the both of you understood, however, he just wasn’t seeing it.

Nari sat under what looked like a tent of colorful silks, gowns draped between a couch and chair overhead, intent on the little bone squares with ruins carved in them. Knowing that his mother was beginning to teach him as she’d taught Loki, it made his chest clench in an entirely different way.

Kneeling down, he smoothed a hand over his son’s messy hair and looked over the ruins that his boy was drawn to, fingering, stroking and organizing. While Nari was a bit young to understand each meaning and all the significance to various patterns and pairings. Loki did have that knowledge. Perhaps Nari would grow to be as gifted with them as you and his mother? It was a pleasing thought.

“And why, may I ask, were you so concerned, Loki? Was I supposed to be somewhere? Did something slip my mind, son?”

Somewhat distracted, Loki almost didn’t realize she was speaking to him. He caught on towards the end, while he stroked Nari’s small back. His son was just so small, so tiny and innocent. He could be poisoned so easy. His life could be taken so quickly. Nearly as quickly and as easily as the lives Loki took down in the basement, in the early hours that morning. Only a few were left, a small handful remained. Those few were hiding and knew what awaited them. It was proving to be a bit of a challenge. Never one to back down from a challenge, Loki anticipated having them in his dungeon very soon. 

“No mother…actually,” slowly he turned his attention away from Nari to both you and Frigga. “I had hoped you would watch my sons for this afternoon? There is something I wish to show my dear wife.” 

Clearly in the know, Frigga’s interest piqued, “It is suitable?”

“Very much so,” Loki agreed.

Having become used to both mother and son, you didn’t take offense. Instead, you hiked Vali higher up on your hip. Was it even possible that he’d gained weight in his time in the palace? You had suspicions that Odin and Frigga were feeding him additionally. 

Turning to face you, Frigga held out her hands. “Hand over my grandson. I’ll take Vali…” she cooed, eyes solely on the child and upon lifting him up, earning a coo from the boy, she added, “Tis time for his snack.”

Your response was immediate, “He does not need a snack. He’s grown a second chin.”

A look of mock outrage crossed the queens features. She then nuzzled up against the infant, whispering conspiratorially against his little ear and you strongly suspected, he would be getting a snack.

Nari’s head popped up, “Snack time?”

Before you had a chance to put an end to snack time, Loki spoke up. “If we are not back by dinner, have the crib and bed brought into your chambers, mother.”

This was news to you. “And where are we going?”

“Ruin the surprise? I think not, my love. Perhaps change into something you do not mind getting dirty.”

This was most definitely news to you.

***

Loki was dragging you all over hell, creation and the bowels of the Royal Palace and you were very glad you’d tugged on one of your old black dresses. Although you wished you’d worn a pair of his old boots. Your slippers were just ruined. You were going to have to throw them away.

He’d drug you down into the dungeons, then through a few connecting hallways that were nearly blacked out, if not for the torch Loki brought.

You clung to your husbands hand and trailed behind him, holding your skirt up from the damp dirt floor in the glorified hall that was more of a tunnel. If you reached out, you could touch both stone walls with your hands, without stretching your arms out.

“Just a bit farther…” Loki told you each time you asked, sighed, or made a noise.

For what felt like forever, you’d been walking.

No wonder he told his mother the two of you might be gone a while. He was taking you up into the mountains behind the palace.

Eventually, although it didn’t feel like eventually, he came to what looked like a wall and with what sounded like the turning of a very big key, the twist of a large metal clanging lock and a heavy stone scraping along the floor. You were half convinced the entire tunnel-hallway was going to fall down on your heads.

Therefore, you hurried after him into a space that smelled old, musty, was shockingly dark and had a heaviness to the air. 

“Where are we?”

Loki held onto you just as tightly as you clung to him.

Odin had casually mentioned this place. Frigga had told him where to find it. It had taken both him and Thor all morning to determine that it would indeed work for his purposes.

“Part of the old palace…”

The old palace?

You perked right up.

Why on Asgard was he bringing you to the old palace?

Loki’s rich voice curled around you in the darkness, as your slippers stepped on once clean floors that now felt grimy. “If we make changes…you and our boys can stay here whilst I am away. There is only one entrance and that can easily be enforced. It will provide you with security and privacy.”

Surprise, surprise and somewhat bewilderment filled you, as Loki drug you along behind him. His torch just barely touched the shadows in the big cavernous room. You could barely see dark shapes in the darker distance. 

“Stay here…”

And then his hand slipped from yours.

The small flame moved away from you as the stuffy air pushed down on you, stuck to the exposed skin of your neck and hands and face. Almost on instinct alone, you crossed your arms to protect yourself from whatever was around, or possibly around.

Smells of dust and old things were going to stick to you, long after you left.

You heard the sounds of Loki moving about, and then, something heavy was pulled aside to reveal a missing section of wall. As if Thor had gone through it. A good portion was gone, large enough to walk two horses with riders through. Not much natural light came in though, and when you looked, you could see leaves and vines and branches. Some light made it in and you could see rotting wooden pillars around a spacious room with an old weathered long-table. Vines and dirt and rocks were littered around on the floor, large blurry glass windows were covered with grime. One window had a tree branch through it, you noticed.

There were a few hallways you noticed, a few doorways around that were dark, you heard little critters scurrying around.

“Perhaps a few changes,” you agreed. Strolling towards that hole in the wall where Loki yanked the tarp aside, an inquiry came from you. “Darling?”

“Hmmm?”

You walked all the way over to the opening to see out into a forest that was greatly overgrown.

“You told me that I could return to Midgard when you were away? Did you change your mind? Or were you lying?”

Nonplussed, Loki responded with, “Lied.”

He turned after tossing aside the covering and was greeted to a palm across his face. A loud slap echoed through the cavernous room, that was indeed very cavey in your honest opinion. It was sharp and stung across his face and was not the reaction he expected from you, although he could not say he was surprised.

When his lips opened, you drew closer and pointed at him, “Do you intend to hold me hostage up here? Until I agree with your plan? You promised me Loki! I do not wish to live in a cave, until whenever you decide to grace us with your presence!”

As if to prove your point, you looked out at a primordial forest and remnants of an old garden. Which you then gestured at rather emphatically.

Calmly, as his face burnt with the fire of several stars, Loki managed to get out. “My children will not grow up among the humans. They are the children of gods, grandchildren of a queen and king! They are not a pair of commoners and they are most certainly not human! No! They will not return to earth! We will stay here until it becomes clear to you. I forbid it!”

Your head and shoulders drew back. “You forbid it?”

One of the windows high up on the wall didn’t shatter, it did not crack, it exploded, making Loki flinch.

One of the few remaining pieces of furniture skidded across the weathered floor.

In warning, Loki said your name.

“Say it again, husband dearest. Forbid me again. Forbid me! Try to stop me from taking the little beings, that grew within my body, anywhere. Say those words to me again.”

Something else exploded into pieces of wood and metal nearby.

“They’re my children too!” He countered, flinching from whatever had become destroyed in your increasing rage, growing louder himself. “They grew from my seed! You did not create them alone! Or have you forgotten that fact?”

In return, you grew louder too.

“How could I? Have you seen them? Every time I look in their little faces, I see you! You haunt me through them!”

Something heavy and very breakable, fell from the ceiling, further back in the remains of the old palace. Both of you heard it snap free, then hit the wooden floor with a crash of metal and a shattering of glass.

Loki jumped. You advanced.

Knowing just what you were capable of, Loki said your name again in warning. Warning you not to do what he could see you were edging towards, his goddess to his god, of victory, no less. 

Seeing your eyes flash, his hand went down to his belt. 

His dagger wasn’t there.

A sharp pointed tip dug underneath the soft of his chin.

Ah, Loki realized, there was his dagger.

“Were you going to pull a knife on your defenseless wife, Prince of Asgard?” Your tongue clicked in your mouth , as you backed him into the shadowy room. Tip of his own dagger digging in further, when he hesitated, at the unknown behind him. 

“Give me back my dagger.” Loki was as serious as he sounded. He even held out a hand to you. When you didn’t, when your eyes took on a soft glow, much like a hum, he nearly tripped on something and took that opportunity to stop in his tracks. “What will you do? Hold me here against my will? With my own weapon? Until I bend to your will?” 

You twisted the blade to dig it in further. “I don’t have to bend you to my will. You swore. As far as I am concerned, I’ll be on Midgard while you and Thor go galivanting around the realms.”

Before you took a breath, Loki countered, “My children will not be leaving Asgard. Whether I have to drag you here, kicking and screaming, my love, which I am prepared to do. Or if you come here willingly. It will happen.”

To which you sighed, you nodded.

You completely understood his position, as he understood yours. Neither of you were prepared to bend, yield. 

As satisfying as trapping him here in the ruins of the old palace was, you knew you would have to eventually compromise. You would eventually conceive another child with the frequency in which the two of you fornicated. This would have to be settled soon, before you found yourself with child again. Such thoughts led you to lower the blade and tap his chest with the bloody tip nine times, in three quick successions of three. “Kneel…”

Compelled by a force greater than him, Loki found himself kneeling before you. A true scowl was only just visible in the dim light that just barely reached in. 

“I thought we agreed that you would not do that to me…” he seethed with genuine displeasure.

You sighed and shrugged, then began to pace with the dagger in your hand. “Since you’re now lying to me. What’s the harm, my prince?”

It had been ages since you’d willed him to do something. As his parentage was not biologically Asgardian, you had that power over him. The last time you’d done such a thing, was when you were children. Loki on the other hand, had not lied to you in quite some time. 

His eyes burnt in to you at your remark. His nose twitched, his mouth set in a firm line as he ground his teeth. 

“As I suspected,” was your flippant reply, as you continued to tap his blade against your palm. With a sigh, you glanced around the space and began to wander, knowing full well he would do his best to break the hold you had on him. You didn’t care if he did or didn’t. His blood was on the knife and you’d already landed the nine necessary touches for each of the realms, three times for the first three beings ever created. You could bend him to your will again. “Darling we cannot go on like this. We must make a decision. It must be made neutrally, so there can be no questioning the validity of it.”

As Loki struggled, he seethed at you, “And what would you suggest, my princess? Shall we have a foot race?”

In response, you snorted. “Nothing you can manipulate. So, no.”

When you turned, you noticed your husband struggling, attempting to pull a leg from the floor. Perhaps a bit too harshly, you smacked your palm with the flat of his blade, sending your beloved onto his knees and palms.

In sheer and utter frustration, he hissed at you. “When I get up…my love…you had best run as fast as those lovely legs can carry you.”

A noise came from you that did not scream concern at his threat.

“You are not getting up until I decide Loki. Put that devious scheming mind of yours to work. Think…according to the court, you’re the head of our marriage. You’re my master and I am merely your womb, selfless and devoted…waiting here whilst you wander the galaxy doing as you wish.” 

Not that such talk bothered you or anything.

When you strolled past him, you drug the edge of his blade along his shoulders, swatting at his loose midnight hair.

Before he could reply, you inquired, “What’s through that doorway?”

Even in the dim room, you could make out a golden arch. Elaborate golden patterns that had been ripped out of the wall around a doorway, likely melted down to be used in the new palace.

Loki looked at the direction in which you pointed his dagger, his own damn dagger. 

This was not going at all how he anticipated, not one bit.

In all fairness, he supposed, he had it coming, after locking you in the dungeon for days. To demand you release him would not happen and not because it would have been hypocritical. No. Loki would never ask to be released because you hadn’t. You’d taken everything he’d thrown at you without hesitation. You had not begged.

“Odin’s father and mother, that was their marital chamber while they lived in this palace,” Loki snarled, the weight of your willpower alone was like a mountain between his shoulders, whenever he attempted movement. When he turned his head, you’d wandered into the room where Bor and Bastla had lived, when they took residence in the now ruined former palace.

Loki wouldn’t lie and say he wasn’t curious.

Struggling to push himself onto his knees, he called out to you a bit rougher than he intended. “What is it you are contemplating, my love?”

When he did get his hands on you, oh would you pay. You really would. If you thought he’d been unreasonable in the dungeon, Loki fully planned to make you pay for this little act of defiance.

Light slowly began to grow softly in the room you’d entered.

Loki frowned. Sound of a fire grew and as he attempted to rise off his hands, up to his knees, he found himself slammed back down. A less than flattering remark about your audacity spewing forth from his mouth.

You, on the other hand, were far from outraged.

The marital chamber of Loki’s grandparents was small, oh was it small. It was dusty. It had a feeling of eeriness, of not being used, of sanctity. It made a chill sweep through you. Hairs on the back of your neck rose. 

As your stepped onto rugs and furs, approaching a carved wooden bed, you could not help but feel a sense of being on hallowed ground. When you rested your hand on the furs that covered the bed, you knew without a doubt, that if you were to take Loki to bed, here, he would give you a child. In the morning, you would walk back to the new palace with a princess growing in your womb.

The frame was wood and on either side of the headboard, was a carved animal you didn’t quite recognize. Depending how you looked at it, it could have been a bird or sea creature, or perhaps a wolf, maybe. Knots and swirls and waves were carved into the wooden headboard and footboard, along both sideboards. Ruins also, some that you recognized and a few that were too old for your knowledge. Up on the wall above the bed, carved into the wall, dully illuminated by the fireplace were more ruins for protection, fertility, wisdom and abundance.

Loki shouted your name, as you looked closer at the old markings, made by a long-ago king and queen. A feeling of peace, tranquility and security settled in and you knew innately that your children would be safe here. They would be sheltered here.

“Dear husband…come in here…” you called sweetly, twisting his dagger in your palm. “I have the answer we seek.”

***

Loki was ready to toss you in the dungeon once more.

There would be no living with you after this.

Not only did you call him into the marital chamber of Odin’s parents like a dog, but, you then had the gall to speak to him as if you held all the answers. 

His feet carried him to the room and nowhere else.

The one room Loki was not too thrilled with in all honesty. It gave him a peculiar feeling, as if he were some-where he shouldn’t be, someplace primordial, someplace sacred.

The space was small and on the walls were weapons, animal heads, an old suit of armor stood in the corner. It felt like he’d stepped into a musty old scroll in the library, detailing the early days of Asgard. He’d planned to completely renovate the old palace, to include the room he stood in, fidgeted in.

“Tonight, my love, we’ll conceive a child here and when the child is born, that will be our answer.”

In response, Loki lifted his eyebrows, “Oh?”

“Mmmhmm, if you give me another son, I get to return to Midgard when you’re away. If you finally give me the daughter I want, I’ll do as you wish. How does that sound? My prince? Neither of us can tamper with those results. Odds are even for a prince or princess, and I have a good feeling about this bed.”

At mention of the archaic looking bed full of furs, Loki glanced at it, then looked it over, frowning a bit as you began to unbutton your simple black gown.

Loki had to admit, your plan sounded promising.

He, however, was not thrilled with this room. “Does it have to be here? It feels like I am standing in a temple.”

Unable to help yourself, you were amused, you really were. Your dress pooled around your ankles and there you stood, bathed in firelight, nude and your husband was looking around as if he expected a ghost to appear from the wall. “You’ve taken me in a temple before Loki. Do not try and be so sanctimonious with me. I know all your dark secrets.”

To which you were not wrong.

Loki still found himself with an odd feeling. Such a feeling, he hardly noticed when you shed your clothing and climbed onto the bed of furs. “Not only have you taken me on the altar of that temple, but it was your idea to ship me off here. Now you’re having second thoughts?”

Quickly, he corrected you, noticing your nudity.

A cool gaze roamed over your bare skin as you settled against the furs, paused at your breasts and the curls between your thighs. “I am not. This bed? It was the bed where…”

Before he could say it, you countered, “Where kings were conceived?”

To which, Loki stopped, pondered, mulled over your words as your thighs fell apart. Not once did his eyes leave your form. 

Luxuriating in the soft furs, you arched your back, pulled your hair free from its restraint. All you had left was his dagger. Which you looked over closely, enjoying the way it caught the reflection of the fire in it. “Oh my love…I would have thought you would have taken immense pleasure in defiling me in this place, so special to your father.”

Still, once more, Loki looked around the room.

His eyes roamed the night sky painted on the ceiling above. He took in the painting above the fireplace, of the world tree with all nine realms. No one had been in this space in such a long time, he and Thor had returned to the palace dirty. Of course, Loki took immense pleasure in defiling you. It was one of his favorite things to do. But here? In the bed where Odin was begotten?

Loki could not help but find it a bit…sacrilegious.

Upon returning his gaze to you, he stiffened. His wife, the mother of his children and his debauched princess. Loki swallowed as he watched you stroke yourself with your fingers, held in place by your willpower alone. Knowing you, you’d make him suffer.

“If you’re reluctant, my sweet, I can respect that…” you purred wickedly, drawing that cursed dagger down over your collarbone, between your breasts and over your stomach as he watched, face tight, teeth clenched. “I can be respectful of your feelings,” you cooed, turning his dagger over and slowly. Methodically, you slid the hilt down between your legs and into your folds.

Indeed, Loki was correct, he was suffering already. “Do you intend to defile yourself with my dagger? On the bed belonging to the former King and Queen of Asgard?”

In response, you nodded. “Yes, my love. Fear not though. Eventually I will move to that long-table. I would not want you to be uncomfortable.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :::Hello friendly readers!! I apologize for the delay. This took a bit longer to wrap up, as I had finished it several times...but didn't like any of the endings. Since I wanted the ending to be just right, I gave it a couple days to breathe before posting it. It had to be just right. Thank you for all your wonderful comments!! And thank you for reading my story!!:::

Loki was absolutely certain, that, the second he was released from the hold you held over him, he was going to make you rue the day you’d ever learned how to tap into the ways of the old Asgardians. Such ways differentiated you and Thor and Frigga and even Loki, from the common Asgardians, marking you as different, as deities. But at what cost?

Never in his entire life had he been so uncomfortably erect.

Never in all his years, campaigns, adventures and journeys had he ever been so hard.

Never had you been so cruel in all your time together, or apart.

Three separate times, Loki had to watch you bring yourself to climax. Three separate times, sprawled on the bed belonging to the former king and queen of Asgard, wearing not a stitch of clothing, flesh bathed in the flickering light of the fire. Loki watched you writhe around the bed of furs as you pleasured yourself.

Once with only your fingers on your clit.

Once more with your fingers on your clit and inside you.

And another time with the handle of his dagger, as well as your fingers on your pearl.

Each time you would call his name. Each time you would tell him how magnificent it felt. Every time, you’d hold his gaze, from start to finish.

If anything, it was the purest form of torture around.

Loki could feel every vein in his cock pulse. He could feel every drop of precum bead from his shaft and smear on the inside of his slacks.

He could turn his head to look around the ancient and dirty room, dusty actually.

He could speak and think for himself.

He was just unable to move from his blood on the tip of his blade, along with that little enchantment you cast, powered by your sheer determination and ability to tap into the old ways of the ancients.

“You look rather uncomfortable darling,” you observed from your place among the carved ruins, furs and pillows. After which, you pushed yourself up on your elbows to properly survey your husband. Indeed, his arousal was quite evident and must have been incredibly uncomfortable.

Perhaps it was time to act?

Perhaps you could torment him more?

He had kept you down in the dungeons for an interminable amount of time.

Loki’s dagger in hand, you rolled onto your side and then front, pushing yourself onto your hands and knees. After, you began to crawl towards your beloved without haste. And upon coming to the edge of the bed, you motioned for him to step closer to you.

In his state, he was unable to deny you anything.

Oh he grunted and lifted his lip in a snarl, yet he came forth without hesitation when he was close enough, you reached out with his dagger. 

“What is it you want? Have we not come to an agreement about this place?”

Why hadn’t you released him?

Completely sky-clad with wet evidence of your arousal smeared along the insides of your thighs, you sliced up the front of his shirt with his own sharp little blade. The fabric peeling away like a hand through water.

Greedily, you took in the lean muscle of his stomach. A scar here or there, decorated his flesh and you drew your tongue along the ridges of his abdominal muscles. Even though you may have ignored the flinch of his body, or the intake of air into his lungs from surprise, you enjoyed the reaction you had on him. “Mmmm…you have husband. In fact, I will assist in our newfound agreement.”

Soft kisses you peppered down his navel, along the trail of dark hair that led into his breeches, which you did not bother to unstring.

Perhaps you glanced up from where you rested on your knees, seeing none of the previous apprehension, or unease, at where he stood from before. In those green eyes raged a storm directed at you.

Perhaps you smirked like the cat who caught the canary.

Your attention then returned to his pants, were his erection struggled to get free. Dagger in hand, you began to pop the laces of his pants, allowing the bulge to distend as the confines were released. Bit by bit. Little pops as you snapped each lace from the metal holes they went through.

“Darling…” Loki’s voice caressed you like the furs you knelt on.

Again, you looked upwards. “You’ve inspired me, my love.”

He did not seem pleased with your news.

Sticking the small blade in the furs, you went to work. 

Grabbing his pants, you pulled the front open which allowed his erect shaft to fall out, bounce in its rigidity. “To ensure an absolute honest conception from my favorite little trickster…I’ll impregnate myself.”

Loki did not particularly like the sounds of that, not one bit.

He did not remember either times he impregnated you. Although he was sure that he was the father of both your sons. Just looking at them, he knew he’d fathered both boys. He would have liked to have a memory on which to look back fondly, remember the night, or time he’d given you a child.

“The Midgardians practice artificial insemination…”

No, Loki did not like the sound of that, not one single bit.

He didn’t dare ask. But he couldn’t not ask either.

And as your nimble hands took the solid length of him, pushed up his foreskin and inched towards him, he inquired. “And how, darling, do you intend to artificially inseminate yourself? Surely there must be some sort of a trick to it?”

Because of course he would ask.

Naturally he would buy time.

You had absolutely no doubt, that your beloved, was doing his very best to extricate himself from your will. He would try every trick and ploy available to him. It was just his nature. 

“Mmmm, yes,” you cooed, smiling at him in a way that was sure to be concerning. “You see, the Midgardian males pleasure themselves into a cup. Contents of said cup are used to fertilize an egg, which is then placed up in the willing female.”

This made your husband grow concerned, confused and perhaps a bit disgusted.

“Obviously…” you continued, stroking his impressive member lovingly. “…there is more to it. But, they are mortal whereas I can take a shortcut, or two.”

Dark eyebrows rose in question at that last bit from your mouth. 

“Ah…you have a plan,” Loki managed as you settled yourself more comfortably on the furs, between his legs, placing soft kisses on his length in a most excruciating manner. This was far worse than anything he did to you in the dungeons. This was so far worse.

“Yes my love, I have a plan…” You deeply savored the hiss from your love, as you drug your tongue along his length, tracing veins and squeezing him rather firmly, in a manner that you knew made his legs buckle and buckle they did. 

Profanities spewed from Loki and you had the utter audacity to feign innocence, look concerned for his well-being.

“…careful my sweet…we don’t want to injure you. You have quite the night ahead of you.”

A log in the fire popped, as if sensing his temper.

“You had better enjoy your time tonight,” Loki snarled most viciously at you, as you began to palm his sac. “When I am free of your treachery, I will ensure that you are unable to walk for days. I will chain you to my bed and not allow you to leave, till you grow round with my child. Your body will be covered with nothing but my spend and you’ll only eat and drink from my hand…” Which was right when you took him in your mouth, silencing him with your knowledgeable tongue for just a few moments. You’d been able to bring him to release with your mouth since you were an adolescent. This, you knew, would not take long. 

A sweat broke out on the Prince of Asgard’s milky flesh. His hands fisted tightly.

His eyes burnt down at you. 

Oh how they blazed.

Perhaps they even glowed?

Deeply, you pulled him into your mouth, curled your tongue around his head and held him tightly, stroked the balls that held the seed you sought. When you took him deeply in your mouth, you stroked him with your tongue till you felt his erection twitch.

“You vile woman. You snake. You wench. I’ll see you on your knees in no clothing for ages at my feet, serving my carnal needs alone. I’ll keep you full of my child till the end of time. All day long I’ll keep you full of my seed, if you do not release me this very instant.”

He was close.

You knew from how his thighs began to tremble. You knew because you could feel him stiffen in your mouth, twitch, taste the hints of his pre-ejaculate.

When he came, it was with a hiss and snarl. It was angrily and oh how he cursed you and your ancestors and every last hair on your head.

You laughed softly, how could you not?

He was so amusing when he got this angry at you.

“Calm down dear husband,” you cooed, as you collected every last drop of his release into your palm. “It will not go to waste. Not one bit.”

This silenced Loki.

His mouth snapped shut so quickly, you swore you heard it. He narrowed his eyes on you and watched you most suspiciously. He watched you closely, as you rested back on the bed of furs. A hand full of his seed as you grabbed his dagger with the other.

“You see, love, the key is to put the seed into my womb. Since I do not have a turkey baster handy…the handle of this dagger will suffice.”

Turkey Baster aside, whatever the hell that was, Loki attempted to lunge forward.

You felt it against your skin, goosepimples rose in response.

As you rolled the dagger handle in the thick fluid, Loki struggled, he fought, small hints of blackish green smoke puffed here and there, rose upwards to the high painted ceiling. 

When he spoke, his teeth gnashed.

It gave you a thrill.

Oh, how you loved seeing him like this…enraged, unrestrained, downright volatile. You would indeed pay for the torment you were inflicting and you very much anticipated it.

But he could be pushed further.

You could plague him a bit more.

His eyes had not yet begun to glow. The breath from his mouth had not begun to fog up, in a chilled cloud. He’d not yet begun to drop small pieces of ice from his fingers. Nor had other magical incarnations of Loki begun to appear and flicker and vanish, then reappear as his stress grew.

“Woman! If you conceive my next child with the end of my weapon, with my seed…don’t you dare!”

A chill, a cold icy chill swept through the room. With a loud crack, the fire roared and grew hotter, a green flame took over.

Loki’s dagger flew from your hand. It bounced off the floor, clattering loudly as metal connected with stone. Landing somewhere in the room out of sight.

Perhaps a new limit had been reached?

Rather eagerly, you pushed yourself back into the bed and took in the heavy breathing of your prince. 

“You are released.”

No sooner had the words come from your lips, did your ebony haired lover come onto the bed like a man possessed. 

A hand fell at the base of your throat, shoving you down as the delicious weight of Loki’s body pinned you to the ancient bed. It thrilled you. Your arms went up. Your legs fell open. When he entered you, it was roughly and fast. One moment your body was empty and in the next, your lifetime love buried his thick length within your aroused walls.

A deep moan came from you.

Loki’s grip on your neck tightened as he began to move wildly in you, his other hand reaching around to grip the bed frame, better brace himself to fuck you most thoroughly for your actions.

“Harder darling,” you encouraged, running your hands around his waist and up his back. Smearing his own release on his broad expanse of skin. “Harder, you know how I like it my king.”

How your words incited him.

Loki moved his hips harder, desperate to get his seed in you. Wild to feel your walls grip his length in release, absolutely out of his mind to reach completion with you. The tight way you wrapped your legs around his thighs, to pull him in harder and further, sent his face down to your shoulder where he bit you.

In jubilation, you cried out at the sharp pain.

He’d bitten you.

He’d marked you like an animal.

Your body hummed in approval, in ecstasy. Furs rubbed against your bare heated flesh. Wood smacked loudly against the walls, floors and creaked in its sudden use.

“Yes…take what is yours’s your majesty. Breed your heir into me. Fill me with your seed. My body is yours, my soul is yours, my heart is yours. My womb is only yours to fill.”

Loki grunted against your shoulder, his teeth sank deeper.

You smelled your own blood and sank a hand into his messy hair. Blood and saliva smeared over your shoulder, you were pinned down by the expanse of his chest pressing you into the bedding, by his fingers sinking into your throat. Every thrust into your body hit your cervix. Wet noises permeated the air, along with your heavy breathing.

You were hot. You were sweating. Loki’s hair stuck to your face as your continued to speak in his ear. “Harder my darling. Make me scream. Leave your marks. Take me like a beast, like a wild animal. Fuck an heir into me in the bed of your ancestors.”

But that wasn’t enough.

No, it was not.

To be honest, Loki could never have enough of you. But your words and how you held him, encouraged him, your cunt so wet and soft and that was all. His mind flooded with nothing but you, as you intended.

Yes, you’d released him from your will.

Yes, he acted of his own accord.

Any spells you worked, were purely that of the nature between you two, as a woman and he as a man, as a man and wife, god and goddess

Loki shouted, snarled at you. His face contorted very near to pain, as he climaxed violently within you. Wood of the bedframe crunched beneath one hand, as his other gripped you tightly.

“There you go…” you cooed, pushing the inky waves of his hair back. “Does that not feel better? Is not a relief to unburden your body of such emotion?”

Such emotion had not left your husband.

Oh no, not when he lifted his face to meet your gaze, allowing you to see the softest glow. A thrum really. In his eyes, much like an ember after a fire had burnt out.

In the peripheral of your vision, you could just make out movement, soft things falling.

Snow.

Your hand slid from his hair, to press your palm against his forehead. “Relax my love. Close your eyes and allow me to feel you.”

Beneath your palm was a cool forehead, cool sweat, chilled even.

Your own eyes closed, as you allowed the connection between you two to form and yourself to feel what your husband did. As always, it was overwhelming. As if standing out in a lush ancient forest surrounded by falling leaves, loud animals, rain and snow, a loud river in the distance. 

All of which you dismissed with a wave of your hand, gone.

Falling leaves, being his anger at you for hiding his sons from him.

A wave of your hand ensured leaves no longer fell.

Loud animals barking or howling, chirping noisily in the distance, Loki’s desperation to keep you and the boys on Asgard, safe, with his parents and in the palace.

With another wave of your hand, the beasts and birds fell quiet.

Falling rain and snow around you, as you stood firmly planted, surrounded by massive trees covered with moss and rough bark. An intense feeling of not knowing when his sons were conceived, or seeing their births.

Another wave of your hand. Gone.

A roaring river in the distance, his pleasure, deep seated pleasure that started at your toes and rolled through your body hotly. In a blinding hot rush, your ears roared and you trembled, your core clenched, your felt your own release hover just beneath your skin wanting to be freed.

Sadly, that had to go too.

After which, you rolled your head and heard your neck pop, twigs snap within the peaceful forest, as your beloved stepped from within the trees. Dressed as he had been when you’d gone to Las Vegas.

“I suppose I should be grateful, you haven’t strapped me down into the dungeon,” Loki remarked in that black suit, as if it belonged there in the woods with you.

A noise came from you that promised nothing.

When you turned, and headed into the forest which shimmered a tad, Loki followed you. 

“Where are we going?”

You were quiet.

More shimmering, trees changed and grew smaller, the woods thinned as a meadow appeared in the distance.

“Darling? You’ve never left my company without achieving coitus…” Upon following you to the meadows edge, you pointed to two figures beneath a bright full moon. “What is that?”

In your clothing from Las Vegas too, you glanced to him, looking into his perplexed face. “You wanted to see the birth of your sons.”

This got Loki’s attention.

He glanced over at the two figures in the meadow, under the midnight sky.

Naturally, his next words were filled with disbelief. “You gave birth in a field on Midgard to my sons?”

You gazed over at your memory and licked your lips. “I gave birth under the stars.”

If your words had any effect on him, Loki kept that to himself. His eyes went skyward as he considered that, and then, he informed you. “There are places on earth where one can go to birth a child. Were you not aware of that when you arrived?”

Oh your dear sweet husband.

Smiling sweetly at him, you motioned for him to follow you. “Indeed darling. I however, faced a particular quandary, that many human mothers do not face.”

Stepping into the field of knee-high grass, Loki followed you, even more unimpressed. “Oh do tell. What quandary would that be?”

Pausing, you turned so that not only did Loki trip in his attempt to not bump into you. But you pressed against the front of him. Tugging playfully on his black tie. You informed him, “I did not know if our children would have blue skin when they were born…or if they would have red eyes…”

He swallowed, clearly having not thought about that particular fact. “And?”

Tugging one last time on his tie, you turned and set off into the field. “Fortunately, our sons took after me at their respective births.” After you took a few steps, you motioned for him to follow. “Come now. You don’t want to miss this moment twice.”

And it wasn’t that Loki didn’t find the idea, of his sons being born under the same stars that he’d also been under, charming, in its own special way. But as they say, it was the principle of the matter. His sons were royalty. His sons deserved to be born in a palace, among the halls where he and Thor had played as children. His bride deserved to give birth among the healing touch of Asgards wisest midwives, with him by your side. Not, under any circumstance, in the company of a single handmaiden, in a field. 

No, he would not miss this moment twice.

Yet there would not be a third time.

***

When your eyes opened, Loki remained atop you.

Unfortunately, he seemed to have gained the upper hand, sometime before you opened your eyes. Your palm no longer in contact with his forehead.

His dagger pointed at you from where he straddled your stomach.

You couldn’t say you were particularly shocked, nor were you upset. If anything, you were amused. You even tucked your hands up beneath the furs, to give your husband all the access he could dream of, to your throat.

“What did you see? When you were in here alone?”

Licking your lips, you shifted beneath him

The very tip of his dagger touched your chin.

Again, you were both undressed, the fire had gone down a bit and there was a soft chill to the air. If one of you didn’t rise to tend to the fire, you’d have to find an alternative way to stay warm over the night.

“Darling…” he warned, pulling the sharp tip softly over your throat, down to the dip in your collarbone and further south. “Shall I chill the dagger?”

Well fine, if he wished to be that unreasonable. 

Pursing your lips, you sighed deeply. “A princess…came to me when I touched this bed. Tonight, your seed will quicken within my womb with our third child. A daughter with your hair and my eyes and oddly enough, your mother’s heritage.”

A perplexed look came over his handsome face.

Pulling his knife back, Loki tapped the tip of the blade against the furs. “Do you not remember what you said? That you would remain here, if our next child is a daughter?”

Undisturbed, your eyebrows rose. “I am aware of what I said.”

Enjoying the range of emotions that crossed over your husbands face, such things that only you were privy to, you shifted around beneath him in the furs to find a more comfortable spot. “Good things come to those who wait,” you told him.

“Says who,” he demanded.

“The humans.”

Something that was neither a smirk, nor a scowl, curled over his lips. “We’re not human, my love.”

You could have teased him about his sons being born on the human world. However, now, you knew it was best to box that up and store it for the distant future. As now, you knew what brewed and simmered beneath his surface. You could not tease him about things that hurt, it was just cruel.

Instead, you remained silent. 

You raised your eyebrows and watched Loki drag his dagger down the soft of your breast. A red line raising behind on your skin. While it did not hurt. It left a delicious warmth behind that just grew.

“You’re punishing me,” he surmised pensively, twisting the metal tip up to your tightening nipple. “You never keep what you see from me.”

What he said was true. Whether he was home, or you sent a raven, or message from Heimdall.

Matter of factly, you reminded him. “You locked me in the dungeon for days on beggars rations.”

In response, he rolled his eyes and began to tap the blade on your breast, making it ripple in movement. “Right…that…well, darling, I have a proposal for you.”

Your eyebrows reached new and impressive heights. 

A coolness swept through the room from outside, from the forest and the hole in the old palace wall, outside the old bedroom. A response came, one that resulted in your husband’s nose twitching and the fire growing larger in green flames.

“Shall we decide to call it even? As the humans say, and shake on it? We both hurt one another and we both agree, that you will not abscond with my unborn children to a different realm. I will not throw you in the dungeon again, on beggars rations, leaving you alone to think about what you’ve done.”

“And the torture,” you reminded him

To which your husband made a face at you, eyes glittering most maliciously. “Oh do not even act, as if we won’t be back in the dungeon together, for more.”

Well, he was not wrong. It was a special place for you both.

Lifting the dagger, he pressed it to his palm, eyes never leaving yours. Not to look at your luscious unclothed body, which he fully intended to plunder very soon. Not straying to your hair, curling around in the furs, in a manner that made his very soul clench. “Shall we shake on it? Start anew from this night on?”

No words came from you.

Instead, your hand went up in your response. 

Turning his attention back to his own palm, Loki pressed his blade to his skin until blood began to swell. There was no need to make a deep gash. Only a bit of blood would do. Which he held out for you to see, as he returned the gesture on your own palm.

It barely hurt. Perhaps a small sting.

When you pressed your palm to his, Loki curled his fingers down over the grooves of your knuckles, curling his fingers against the back of your hand and you found yourself mirroring the action.

And then there was stinging, more stinging that blurred into warmth, hot warmth from you that mixed with your lovers far cooler blood.

“I will protect you and any children you give me. No one will harm our family again.” Loki promised you, his grip on your hand firm, as he pressed his lips to the backs of your fingers. His mouth pressed against your wrist. “You’ll give birth to our daughter here, in the palace, with me by your side and under the care of Asgards most skilled healers.”

You shifted beneath him, watching.

Your husband pressed his mouth to your elbow. “Our sons will be taught by the wisest tutors and my mother will instruct our daughters.”

You pointed to the spot between your breasts, on your chest. “Kiss me here Loki.”

Listening, your husband lowered his lips there, softly kissing that spot.

Hands still clasped, you pulled his hand, so tightly clinging to yours, down into the furs. As your other hand pointed to your breast. “Kiss me here.”

A gentle kiss was placed to the soft side of your breast.

Distantly, you heard the familiar clattering of metal on stone again.

Burning like an ember, Loki’s gaze returned to yours, as he waited for you to instruct him where to place his lips. You knew he would place them anywhere and the thought was perfect. 

“Lie on your back my prince,” you gently instructed, holding his hand tightly. Not allowing him to let go of you as he lifted an eyebrow, listening. Sliding off you with a grace you appreciated. You watched him settle into the bed, lean muscle moving beneath milky flesh. A fine dusting of hair on his chest caught your eye, as did the soft trail that led down his navel to the shaft that made you smile. Everything about Loki was utter perfection in your eyes.

Hands still clasped, you moved. You slid a bare leg over him and reached for him. Your free hand stroked him, firmly gripped him, pumped him once and twice, earning a soft groan from the God of Mischief. 

Never would you tire of his cock.

A perfect girth with a head that you felt, no matter how deeply he went in you. Pearly essence oozed from the tip. Which you ran your thumb over. Fisting him again, more collected at his tip under your knowing hand. “We cannot allow that to go to waste…now can we?”

Wickedly, he looked up at you. Appearing so primal in the furs, surrounded by ruins and heads of beasts on the posts of the bed.

“Take it my goddess. Take my cock in your cunt. Let me flood you with my seed, breed you with my heirs. My blood courses through your body now.”

As if remembering, you pulled your hand from his to look at the smeared blood on your palm.

Your eyes found his again.

Taking his cock and lining it up to your slit, you sank down on the blood-filled organ with a groan. Your free hand rubbed yourself with your blood covered hand, smearing his blood and your blood over your abdomen, where your little princess would soon take root.

A sinful noise came from your trickster, as you sank further down on his erection.

“Take it all my queen. Let me fill your womb. Not a drop will go to waste tonight. You’ll drip my seed for days when we’re done here.”

In response to his filthy words and how his crown pushed in through your snug channel, up into you, you moaned.

“It is all for you. Only you. Do you feel how hard I am for you? You want it, do you not? You are eager for my cock and my seed? You wish to be bred? In this bed of kings and queens?”

Desperately, you nodded, easing the rest of him in, resting on his lap, adjusting, stretching, feeling that tight burn. A slight pain as he became fully seated within you. When your voice whispered out, it was hoarser, “Yes my prince.”

In that second, Loki felt his sac tighten.

When you called him that, in such a way, when he was buried in you. It awoke things in him only his goddess could stir up.

Loki gazed up at your body, blood smeared over your womb. Breasts swaying as you began to slowly move on his shaft. Hair loose, eyes closed, mouth parted in bliss. You were so tight and wet around his member.

“Fuck yourself on me. Let me hear your moans. Let me hear the noises our bodies make…”

Breathy noise began to fall from your lips, as you impaled yourself on his length. Wet noises came as your body pushed against his, rubbed and smeared, seeking utter pleasure from your clit rubbing against his hard body. Slowly your bodies began to climb, as so many had done before you in the furs. Walls of your tight cunt gripped him and stroked him, as you pushed up and down his dick and savored his crown spreading you, stroking you, rubbing you from the inside. 

“Yes my prince,” you breathed deeply, spearing yourself on your lover and husband and prince.

Knowing he would not last as long as he’d like, Loki began to stroke your clit.

A painful cry came from you, at the contact, that was almost too much.

“Take it my goddess. Harder, harder,” he purred as his cock twitched and grew hotter, more tender, close, so close to spilling his release. Green gaze watching your breasts sway and unable to help himself, Loki took them in hand, squeezed them, stroked your nipples mercilessly, claiming what was his in the ancient royal bed.

You cried, you gasped.

Your head spun as your chest began to tighten. You were hitting just right, almost there, so close to the edge and then…

…Loki sank his fingers back around your clit, wet with your fluids. Tormented your nipple as he came, as white hot fire overwhelmed him and led him to thrust up, rut his pelvis into you, break and shatter you.

You came with a scream. One that was deep and throaty, a scream that came with tears and wet slapping noises, as he continued to fuck you. Your womb took it all. Your walls clamped around his cock tightly, milking everything from your prince as possible. You screamed as your clit was stroked still. You moaned deeply as your pussy contracted and climaxed, as Loki extended your orgasm and then continued pounding up into you. Filling you with expulsion after violent eruption from his heavy balls. You begged as it became too much, too much, too too much.

Even when he stopped, Loki felt himself release again within your twitching walls. He circled his arms around you to hold you close, to stroke your back and smooth his fingers through your hair. Secure that he had released copious amounts of his thick cum into your fertile womb. Deeply pleased with the knowledge that sometime over the night, it would take hold. He would fill you with Asgards next hair.

In his arms you trembled, shook really.

Both of you having broken and become anew, with shared blood and the creation of something deep within your womb. A part of Loki took hold in a part of you. And perhaps he knew, perhaps a part of him felt it in the stars. Perhaps he could see it, in how the flames danced within the hearth. Or it could have been the ancient knowledge his mother had imparted to him.

All that he knew, was, when he held you so tightly in his arms, he knew that he held his world and his future. 

He stroked your hair and kissed your forehead, neck and shoulder. Whispered sweet words to you, as you softly wept, for the first time in years, as you should have been able to before.

The next time, it was soft and tender and gentle, to show you the depths of his love and adoration. It was slow and lasted forever, until the fire burnt into embers and you both fell asleep in the old ruins, wrapped up in one another. Asgards new princess growing stronger with every beating of your hearts.


End file.
